Holyhead Harpies Training Camp
by n1h1l4dr3m
Summary: Ginny makes a new friend with one of the newest additions to her Quidditch team, Astoria. They help each other through a very long month. / Cannon, set three years after Deathly Hallows. Eventual DM/AG, along with the obvious RW/HG and HP/GW. Planning on keeping the T rating (profanity) for the entire story. Might possibly change later-depends how sexy Astoria gets...
1. Practice

The tall, athletic woman stopped outside the locker room and glanced over her team roster:

Ginevre Weasley—Seeker, captain

Astoria Greengrass-Keeper

Jamie Glen—Beater

Gardenia Hearth-Beater

Giovanna Tally—Chaser

Hannah Goldberg—Chaser

Gretchen Smith—Chaser

Her team was excitedly pulling out their new brooms and new uniforms from their lockers. She wasn't over thrilled with the youngest addition to their team, Astoria Greengrass. The manager had insisted on purchasing her contract, so now Gwenog resigned herself to extra trainings until she got up to par. Overall, though, Gwenog felt that this year was going to be superb. She had great players from the previous year-or in some cases, years-and she had spent the entire off season piecing together a training regimen that would surely lead them to victory. The Quidditch World Cup was going to the Holyhead Harpies this year!

"All right, laaaaaaaadies!" Gwenog stomped through the door, Quidditch box thrown over her shoulder. The Holyhead Harpies immediately quieted their excited discussion about their new brooms and focused their attention on their coach. The former Beater was broad in the shoulders, and tall. Her long black hair was tied loosely at the nape of her neck. "Welcome to Spring Quidditch Camp! We've got an incredible amount of work to do before the season starts. A warm welcome to our rookies, Gretchen Smith, Chaser, and Astoria Greengrass, our new Keeper. I trust the rest of you have made them welcome?"

Gwenog gave a stern look to her team. "What, no response?"

"Of course we've made them welcome. We're just hoping if we don't talk, you won't be encouraged to start one of your famous long speeches." Ginny smirked at Gwenog cheerfully.

"Fucking Weasley." Gwenog rolled her eyes at her favorite player and team captain, and then continued nonplussed, "Okay, look, ladies, I'll make this short. For now." She shot a dirty look at Ginny.

"I'm proud of how we played last year, but we have got! To step! Up! Our! Game!" Gwenog smacked one of the beater's bats into her palm to punctuate her speech. "Take to the field and do some warm up exercises, everyone but Weasley."

Ginny threw her broom over her shoulder. "Damn. I still haven't had a chance to test my new broom."

Gwenog grinned excitedly, "I know, the Gloriola is a beautiful broom! They made it according to the specifications you and I recommended, you know. It's being patented as the Holyhead Harpies Broom. You can only get it in gold and green with Holyhead Harpies emblazoned on the side of it!"

"Really? I didn't think Broomstix would take our suggestions. Where'd they get the name, anyway? Gloriola?" Ginny followed the tall woman to the edge of the pitch.

"I think it means halo or something. I asked them to name it something with a G, since G names are a Harpy tradition."

Ginny laughed. "I really can't believe you refuse players who don't have a G name. There were a few girls who were overall better players than the Smith girl. She played for Hufflepuff at Hogwarts, but she didn't make the team until her 7th year. She's not got much experience at all."

"I don't make the final hiring decisions, the manager does. He's the one with the money. Something to do with a curse on the team. Whatever, though."

"Well, I was still at Hogwarts at the time, but we never won a game that season with Valmai Morgan." Ginny smiled at the stupid superstition.

"Don't get me in a depressed state thinking about that season. Merlin. That was a rough year." Gwenog transfigured two sticks and a rock into a table and chairs.

"Sit. Let's discuss training regimine and strategy!"

Ginny pulled out a sheaf of parchment and handed it to Gwenog. "Here are my observations of the team from try-outs. Also, somewhere in there are some new training suggestions and, I was thinking, Gwennie?"

Gwenog distractedly looked up from Ginny's notes. "Yeah?"

"I was thinking, maybe we should get a healer to draw up a proper diet plan, so we are at our peak strength levels. You know?" Ginny tucked a flyaway strand of bright red hair back behind her ear.

"Not a bad idea, Weasley. Not a bad idea at all."

After another half hour of discussion, Gwenog stood and stretched. "Here, I've got something for you." She rummaged around in a bag and pulled out a heavy vest and dark goggles.

Ginny lifted the goggles to her face and immediately tossed them back in the bag. "Hell no. I can't see shit with those."

"That's the _point, _Weasley. We need you to practice in extreme conditions. Here, take this already." She shoved the weighted jacket at Ginny, who exhaled in a loud oooomph! as she struggled to not drop it.

"This thing weighs like eight hundred kilos! Are you out of your mind?!" Ginny wrinkled her nose. "The broom won't even hold me!"

"It will. I tested it, and I weigh more than you. Quit whining. Do three laps with the goggles and the jacket, and then take it off, and I'll release the snitch. You'll see. You'll want to practice with this from now on out." Gwenog crossed her arms imperiously.

"Merlin's nose hairs, Gwenie, I hate you." Ginny struggled into the vest and tightened the goggles against her face. She barely was able to kick off the ground, and felt like she had been hit with the Arresto Momentum Charm. Even if she could move faster, Ginny would not have dared because her obscured vision made her afraid she was going to smash into another player. She was flying blind, and she hated it. This was worse than flying in snow, or fog, or even at night. At least at night the pitch was lit from the stadium lights.

Ginny tried to focus on each of the players as she passed them in the air, but her vision was so hampered that she could only distinguish them by their voices. Gwenog was off yelling at the Beaters about their form, and the Chasers were giving the Keeper a merry run for her money. She completed her first circle of the pitch high in the air. Her second lap the weight was too much and Ginny could barely keep even with the posts. The last lap, Ginny sank up and down comically, like a cork in the middle of the ocean. She finally completed Gwenog's assignment and slipped to the ground. "WOMAN! Get this shit off of me!" Ginny ripped off the shaded goggles and flug them at the back of Gwenog's head. Laughing, she flitted over to Ginny and helped take the jacket.

"Here's your snitch." Gwenog let the little golden blur go and planted her hands on her hips. "Get a move on, Weasley!"

"Fuck, Gwenie! You couldn't give me a second for a breather?" Ginny tossed her arms in the air in exasperation.

With a final dirty look over her shoulder, she threw her legs over her broom and took off. However, without the extra weight, Ginny propelled herself forward so rapidly that she covered the distance of half the pitch.

"Whooooooo!" Ginny let out an exuberant shriek in surprise over the speeds she attained.

"Gwenie, I take I back! You're genius!" Ginny glanced around for the snitch. Without the exasperating glasses hamstringing her vision, she felt as though she could see everything.

Unfettered, Ginny felt joy bubble from deep within as she overtook the snitch. She was flying so fast that she turned a few circles around it before reaching out and gently plucking the snitch from the air.

Gwenog nodded, satisfied. Ginny swooped down and handed the Holyhead Harpy manager the snitch. "I suppose that you're going to do something awful and make me use this until I can fly for hours on end," Ginny sprawled on the ground, physically drained, "and then add more weight after that."

"I didn't even need to tell you! You are the secret weapon, Weasley. We are going to win for sure this year!"

Ginny wiped the sweat off her forehead and struggled to her feet. Her whole body felt like jello. "Merlin's beard, this is going to be a long month."


	2. Dinner

Ginny stood at the mirror in the locker room wearing blue jeans and a sports bra. She ran a brush through her damp, long, hair, which looked more brown than red from the water. Ginny debated taking the time to style it, or just pull it back in a tight ponytail. Jamie made her choice easy, because she tossed her toiletry bag into the sink. "Yo, Gin, mind if I borrow the mirror a sec? I've got a hot date."

Ginny moved out her way and teased, "How much make-up does it take to fix your face?"

"Bitch!" Jamie laughed and leaned in toward the mirror brandishing an eye-liner pencil. "Hey, not all of us can catch someone like Potter." Ginny rolled her eyes and moved toward her locker to fish out a fresh shirt. Astoria darted by her. Ginny couldn't quite put her finger on what it was, but something in Astoria's body language screamed that she was upset.

Ginny finished tying her hair back and tossed her hairbrush into her locker. After a moment of deliberation, she followed Astoria into the showers.

"Hey, 'Tori." Ginny rapped her knuckles on the frosted glass of the door.

"Yes?" Her voice was soft. Ginny paused, not sure if she should even bother the dark-haired girl. Maybe Ginny was imagining things.

"Um….You want to grab dinner with me today?" Ginny figured that asking if something was bothering Astoria—while she was in the shower no less—was an awkward conversation that Ginny was not prepared to have. She barely knew the newest addition to the team.

"Yes." Astoria's voice carried a note of surprise.

"Okay…I'll, uh, I guess I'll be in the locker room then." When Astoria didn't ask where they were going to dinner, or what time, or any of the normal questions that usually followed an invitation, Ginny excused herself, awkwardly, and headed back to finish getting dressed after practice.

Ginny was starting to grow impatient. How long could it possibly take her to shower? Most of the other girls had left for the day, except for Jamie, who was excitedly talking about her date with Michael Corner.

"Well, you know, Gin, we were in the same house, and I think that just gives us a bond, you know? He's quite the Quidditch fan, too."

Ginny spoke with a wry tone, "Yeah, he's definitely a fan, and a very sore loser, I might add. He never liked it much that I was on the team that kept beating Ravenclaw."

Jamie lowered her mascara wand and made eye contact with Ginny in the mirror. "Oh. I forgot you two used to date. I'm sorry, that's probably awkward with me going on about him like a sap."

Ginny smiled, "No, even when we dated I always had feelings for Harry. It was probably wrong of me to lead him on. I'm happy he's got you, Jamie. He's a good guy. You remember how he stood up to the Carrows?"

Jamie made a swooning noise. "Yes! He is such a hero!"

"Oh, gag! Jamie, no more romantic talk!" Ginny sprawled out on the bench and rolled her eyes. "You better get laid tonight, because Harry is out of town for a month! I'll live vicariously through you."

"He is such a good kisser! The things he can do with his mouth—" Jamie grinned mischievously as Ginny cut her off with a gagging noise.

"Just because I want you to get some doesn't mean I want to hear the details!" She was saved from further discussion of Michael Corner's heroics in and out of bed because Astoria walked into the locker room. Ginny was surprised to see she was completely dressed. _So that's what took her so long. _Astoria quietly hung up her towel and tossed her duffle bag into the locker.

Astoria shoved her hands into her pockets, her dark brown hair in a tight French braid. Looking at her feet, she shrugged and said "Sorry I took so long. Where are we going?"

"I was thinking," Ginny smiled and grabbed her purse from the bench. "there's a cute little Indian place next to my flat, or we could order some Yum-Yum Chinese Take-Away, they'll deliver." Ginny stood up and then spoke again, "Oh! I just realized it might be easier if we picked something closer to your place?"

Astoria shook her head. "Your place is fine. Chinese sounds good. I'm not a big fan of curry."

"Okay, cool, then let's go. I usually just apparate, but since you've never been to my flat before…" Ginny's voice trailed off, unsure, "You want to side-along? Or, ah, we can fly, I guess, but I'm all the way in Godric's Hallow."

"After Miss Gwenog's practice today, I don't think I want to sit on a broom for a while." Ginny raised her eye-brows at Astoria's use of the title "Miss" for Gwenie, but didn't comment.

"Alrighty, then, let's go." Ginny put her hand out, and as soon as Astoria closed her hand around it, she apparated them to her front door.

Astoria stumbled, but quickly regained her footing. "I'm sorry, I get motion sick."

Suppressing a laugh, Ginny opened her front door. Astoria followed, curiously looking around. The house was a small red-brick number, with a cute little porch and a flower bed. A white-picket fence gave the house a sweet charm. Ginny flicked her wand and the lights came on in the house. She moved from the foyer into the living room, which was decorated in muted earth tones, and held a large, comfortable overstuffed couch and chairs. "Hey, Alpy?"

"Yes, ma'am!" A small house-elf appeared on the back of the couch, a rag and spray bottle in one hand.

"Hey, this is 'Tori, she's on my quidditch team." Ginny introduced her house-elf to Astoria, who was still busy gaping at the house.

"Hello, Miss Tori, oh, my, you are being Queenie's human!" Alpy gave a little bow when he recognized Astoria.

"Yes, Queenie is my parent's house-elf." Astoria smiled warmly at Alpy and then turned to Ginny. "I thought you were a member of SPEW?"

Ginny handed her dufflebag to Alpy, who ran to put the dirty uniform items in the wash, and nodded, "Yeah, but Harry inherited a lot, not just land, from his parents. Alpy sort of belongs to the Potter name, I think. We aren't sure where he came from. He just showed up one day. This is Harry's house, actually. He's off on an auror assignment for the next month."

"I see." Astoria looked around even more curiously, a bit surprised that the famed Harry Potter lived so…normally. There were framed pictures on the mantle over the fireplace, and a stack of well read books on the coffee table.

"He, ah, had the house rebuilt while I was in my 7th year. Mum keeps saying he's gonna propose, because no man builds a house like this without planning on filling it with kids. She's just got empty-nest syndrome, though. Anyway, what do you want from Yum-Yum's?"

"Orange chicken with extra peppers, and won-tons!" Astoria reached for her purse. "Here, I'm not sure how much it will be…"

"Nah, it's okay, dinner's on me. Make yourself comfortable." Ginny kicked off her shoes and sat down on the couch. She leaned forward to talk to her elf. "Alpy, do you mind, a quick run to Yum-Yum's?"

"I will be getting dinner! Beef with broccoli and egg rolls and rice and Miss Tori's order too! Are you wanting to eat here, ma'am, or should I be setting up the dining room?" The little elf bowed and reached for the galleon Ginny was holding.

"Here's fine, Alpy, let's not get formal with it, okay? We can eat out of the take-away boxes just fine. I should be embarrassed that you know my regular order by heart." Ginny laughed, self-consciously, at the elf, who was staring at her with wide eyes. She looked up at Astoria and commented, "I hate doing dishes. Is that okay, I mean, eating out of the take-away boxes?"

Astoria sat down on the chair across from Ginny. "Of course. You do your own dishes?"

"Well, when Alpy lets me, I do. We never had an elf growing up." Ginny tucked her legs under her and burrowed into the cushions. She struggled for a minute to find a topic of conversation to prevent an awkward silence. "So, how was your first day of practice? Is playing professional quidditch all you dreamed it would be?" She smiled at the younger girl. She was behind Ginny at Hogwarts. Ginny had never hung out with her at school, though. She remembered seeing her in the library a lot.

"It's way more serious, and intense. And Miss Gwenog yells. A lot." Astoria looked down at her hands. She was a little embarrassed by how inexperienced she was on the pitch. If she was totally honest with herself, too, Astoria was very nervous around her teammates, especially Ginny. She was a quiet, bookish girl, and Ginny was loud, and outgoing, and confident. She was dating the most famous man in the wizarding world, she'd been playing quidditch professionally for two years—and was quite good, too. Astoria still lived at home, with her parents. She was 17, being the youngest of her class meant she graduated and was still not even legal to buy certain potion ingredients.

She added as an after thought, "I only got to play my 7th year. I don't have a lot of experience."

"You seemed to be holding your own just fine. Anna and Hannah are really something else, so the fact that you were able to take their onslaught is good. You play well." Ginny shared her observations, not just to encourage Astoria, but because they were true.

"Anna?" Astoria asked. She seemed to relax a little after Ginny's kind words.

"Oh, yeah Giovanna, we call her Anna for short. Anna and Hannah, the dynamic duo…How's the other new girl, Smith? How's she doing? Was she able to hold her own with those two? Every year we have to replace the third chaser, because they can't put up with those two." Ginny smiled.

"She's more confident than I am." Astoria twisted the ring she wore on her thumb, nervously. "She's very aggressive."

"She got a few by you, eh?" Ginny smiled.

"No, not on the pitch, Hannah, and Anna, they only scored on me a few times. Just, her personality." Astoria bit at her lower lip.

Sensing Astoria was a little uncomfortable, Ginny abruptly changed topics. "Hey, want something to drink?" Ginny stood up and headed to the kitchen.

"I…uh…what type of drink?" Astoria stopped herself from telling Ginny she wasn't old enough to legally drink, yet. Not that most wizards held with muggle law, but her father would be outraged if she showed up smelling of liquor.

"Well, Harry is a fan of that awful Bubble Juice, so there's that…Butterbeer, of course, pumpkin juice, tea, I can put on a pot of coffee. If you want a proper drink, we've got some Fire Wiskey and Red Current Rum, somewhere." Ginny opened a cabinet to look for the alcohol, and after a second she looked over her shoulder Astoria. She added apologetically, "I think we have some, anyway, maybe we don't anymore..."

"I'll take some Bubble Juice." She felt relieved that Ginny wasn't insisting on alcohol.

"Ew! You drink that stuff? Please, help yourself!" Ginny rummaged around in the fridge and pulled out a glass bottle. "Want a glass?"

"No, this is fine." Astoria popped the cap off and took a drink. Ginny grabbed a pumpkin juice. She jumped up on the counter, feet dangling.

Astoria twisted the bottle around in her hands. The cold bottle was already perspiring. She was saved from further conversation because the Alpy apparated into the kitchen. "Miss Ginny! Here is being your dinner!"

"Thank you, Alpy. Let's go eat, eh? I'm starved." Ginny jumped effortlessly off the counter and headed back to the living room.

"So, you dating anyone, Tori?" Ginny started unpacking the take-away bag, setting the boxes in a little row on the coffee table.

"Oh, no, my father would lose his mind." Astoria blushed a little.

Ginny looked up in surprise.

Ginny reached out and patted Astoria's hand. "Old wizard traditions?"

She nodded, a little sadly. "Yeah, father wants me to stay with a pure-blood. Daphne did, she married Marcus Flint. It was kind of an arranged thing. Father keeps trying to marry me off, but I'm not ready for it. That's why I tried out for the Harpies."

"I take it that your parents aren't a fan of you playing quidditch?" Ginny opened a container and handed it to Astoria with a, "Whoops, here's your chicken."

Astoria picked up a pair of chopsticks and picked through the box. She pulled out some green peppers and ate them. "Oh, sweet Salazar, no. Mum agreed to it, though, until next year. She said it wouldn't be proper for me to marry at my age."

"How old are you, Tori?" Ginny asked curiously.

Astoria blushed and looked down at her chicken. "I'm only 17." She spoke softly.

"Oh. You're graduated, anyway, that's enough to make you an adult."

"Not according everyone else." Astoria shrugged her shoulders and smiled sadly.

"Well….who cares what anyone else says?" Ginny grinned at Astoria. "So, tomorrow after practice I promised George I'd stop by the shop. Want to go with me?"

Astoria nodded, and grinned into her orange chicken. "I'd like that."

Ginny leaned back into her chair, satisfied that she would be able to develop a good friendship with Astoria. She would never admit it, but she was lonely. Hermione was getting so busy with her pre-law studies, and when she was around it was always with Ron—whenever he and Harry weren't on some assignment that is. Her one other friend was Luna Lovegood, and she was off gallivanting around Brazil, studying magizoology with the Scamander boy. It was bad enough that Gwenie was going to make practice miserable for her-she needed some friendship, or else it was going to be an ever longer month.


	3. Provocation

Ajaye, Beside Moonlight, and WhovianPotterhead1604, this is for you. Thank you for reading =)

* * *

Ginny slammed the brakes on her broom and spiraled slowly down to Gwenog. Blood dripped down Ginny's chin—apparently, Gwenog observed, Ginny's nose was broken by that last bludger. Her voice was thick as she tried to speak around her broken nose. "Woban. We hab got to talk. I swear to all that is holy that rebains ubon this earth, I am going to blow up this stadium and everyone in it if I get hit in the head one bore time with a bludger."

Gwenie chewed on the end of her pen thoughtfully. "You realize we're playing Puddlemore United first, right? They're going to ruin our rankings _from the very start of the season!"_ Gwenog smacked her clipboard against her hip for emphasis.** "**So, I don't care if you're uncomfortable. You're in training." Gwenog reached into her pocket and pulled out the snitch.

Ginny turned apoplectic with rage. Her face was a bright red. "You….You!…." She was so furious she could barely speak.

"Yes. I had you circling the pitch, in that magnificent training gear, getting bombarded by hexed bludgers looking for a snitch that was in my pocket. You, Ginny, are going to kick ass. Go get your damn snitch."

_"I'm going to kick your ass, Gwenie!" _Ginny jumped off her broom and struggled out of the weighted jacket.

The rest of the team had stopped practicing and hovered a few metres away from Ginny.

"Why's she angry, Anna?" Hannah was late to the scene and couldn't understand why the ever-cheerful Ginny was screaming at their manager. Anna quickly explained the situation to her best friend, complete with a reenactment of the bludger attack that pushed Ginny over the edge. The ball had cracked her in the face—the glasses prevented Ginny from seeing it coming.

Gardenia observed with disappointment, "I didn't know our bludgers were hexed. I thought I was just getting stronger."

"You've never seen a hexed bludger?" Jamie, the other beater, looked at Gardenia in disbelief.

"Well, no, I guess not. I mean, they always fly around crazily, anyway." Gardenia shrugged, her beater shoulder pads making the movement look comical.

"Do you think we should stop her?" Gretchen asked as Ginny hurled the shaded lens goggles with deadly precision at Gwenog's head. Ginny took off running, but Gwenog had gotten a good head start and was halfway across the pitch.

Hannah replied, "Maybe. I mean, if she did catch Gwenog it might be bad. Gwen would probably kick her off the team if she punched her, or, _oh Merlin_**_."_**Hannah's voice hit a high note of panic. "Where is Ginny's wand?! If she hits Gwen with the bat-bogey hex we will all be doing laps until well after dark."

Realizing none of the other girls were going to do anything productive to stop this scene from unfolding, Astoria sent her broom into a nosedive. She swooped to a graceful stop in front of Ginny. She noticed her nose was a little crooked, and still bleeding.

"Hey. Let me fix your nose." Astoria pulled her wand out of her sleeve.

"I'll fix HER nose!" Ginny tried to shoulder past Astoria, but she flicked her wand and hit Ginny with _Arresto Momentum. _

"Okay, I'm sorry, this is gonna sting. _Episky!" _with a sharp crack, Ginny's nose reset.

"Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuu!" Ginny tried to yell in pain and grab her nose, but the motion-stopping charm drew her words out in a preposterously slow speed. It also prevented her from moving her arms.

"I'm going to stop the charm. But you gotta calm down, okay, Gin?"

Ginny tried to nod, but the motion was severely stunted. Astoria released her from the charm, and Ginny immediately grabbed her nose and dropped to her knees.

After a few seconds, Ginny stood up, and rubbed her nose. Her eyes were still watering. "Damn. I'm sorry. That was some inappropriate behavior. Thanks for talking sense into me, Tori."

Astoria smiled. "You should go try to get the blood off yourself. And maybe get a drink."

Ginny opened and closed her mouth in an "o" shape a few times, stretching her nose. She looked down and realized she did have blood spattered all over her jersey. "Yeah. Good idea. Thank you."

Astoria returned to the air and readied herself for Anna and Hannah's onslaught. And, she supposed, Smith's onslaught, if the other two would ever pass her the quaffle.

After practice in the locker room, the girls ribbed Ginny for her outburst. Ginny grinned and took the teasing good-naturedly while showering and changing.

Finally, unable to take it any longer, she asked, "Tori, you still up for visiting George in the shop? He said he had something he wanted to show me."

"Yeah, let me finish braiding my hair. Two seconds." Astoria finished said "I'll meet you out front." They apparated to the front of George's shop. They walked in, the small bell at the top of the door barely heard over the din in the shop. Ginny waved at Angelina, who was manning the counter. She was trying to ring up a very indecisive young boy. Astoria glanced around the shop, trying to take in all the whirring gadgets and bright colors.

George saw his sister and her friend walk in, and he bounded down the stairwell. Ginny saw him headed her way and ducked under a large, colorful banner that announced,

**GET YOUR SCHOOL SUPPLIES NOW!**

**SKIVING SNACKBOXES,** 10% OFF! _For when you just need a day off!_

**SELF WRITING QUILLS**, 15% OFF! _They'll take notes while you sleep!_

**AWAKE-EYES** 20% OFF _Your professors will think you're awake and paying attention while you sleep!_

**this week only, buy five Self Writing Quills and get an Awake Eyes for **FREE**!***

Ginny gave George a hug. She stepped back and rapped her knuckles on the sign. "As long Professor McGonagall is teaching, those Awake Eyes will never have a huge profit."

"I know, sister, that's why they're on sale. They're good for Binns, though, if he's still teaching History." George grinned smugly.

"So, who's this?" George motioned toward Astoria, who was still glancing around the shop with wide eyes.

"Tori, this is George, George, this is Tori. She's on the Harpies with me."

"Oh, yeah? What position? Keeper, right?" George sidled up to Astoria with a huge smile.

"Yes, Keeper. You played beater, right?" Astoria bit her lip nervously. She never had much experience talking to boys, and George's undivided attention made her a little tense.

"Yes, we did." George didn't realize he was speaking in plural. He still did, sometimes, since Fred's death. Ginny smiled sadly at the thought of Fred.

"Georgie, why did you want me to stop by?" George turned to his sister, and a huge grin spread across his face. "Oh, you're going to LOVE this! You too, Tori, check this out!" George bound up the stairs, and with a shrug, Ginny followed. Astoria trailed up behind them. They wound their way through several displays, until George stopped in front of a quidditch pitch that took up the entire back wall of the shop.

In front of the pitch were boxes of action figurines. It took Ginny a second to process the colors and designs, but she finally realized what she was seeing.

"Wait a minute, George! You made all the teams into action figures!?" Ginny reached for the nearest box and peered inside at the Appleby Arrows. "But, George, action figures have been done already."

"Not like this!" George grinned triumphantly. "Look!" He popped open another box, the Kenmare Kestrals and unceremoniously shook the figurines into the pitch. "Add those, too."

Ginny did ask George requested. She watched as the figures mounted their brooms. A referee stomped across the pitch and spoke to the two teams. The referee—which looked suspiciously like Madam Hooch—popped open the minature quidditch ball box and the two teams took to the air. Ginny watched in amazement as the players swooped and swerved and played a game in miniature.

"Wow, George, this is impressive." She peered around the pitch, looking for the snitch. She doubted she would see it because everything was so small. The Quaffle was half the size of a Bertie Bott's Bean.

"What's even more impressive, is when you learn that they're programmed to play any recorded game in history. Think about it, sis, you can watch your opponents play before each game." George smugly leaned back against the display, arms crossed across his chest.

Ginny stared at the miniature Quidditch game in fascination. The possibilities for training and tactical discussion with this were endless. "Did Wood help you with this?"

"Yeah, he and Angelina helped me program the figurines. And don't ask, Gin, it's out of your price-range. I don't think any manager would spend the money on it, either."

"Damn. Well I'm still gonna tell Gwenie about it. Can I take a box of the Harpies?"

"No, it's a full set." George patted Ginny's head. "Sorry, sis."

"But you made me into an action figurine! Why I can't have it!?" Ginny asked in disbelief.

"A little bit of fame and it goes straight to your head. Do you want me to ask for your autograph, too?" George teased Ginny. He ignored his sister's irritation and asked, "Hey, where's your friend? She's a figurine, too."

"I bet she is." Ginny glared darkly at her brother. "That's a good question, though, where did Tori go?" She headed through the cluttered displays and bins of toys and trinkets into a section of the shop that was violently pink.

There were little groups of school girls giggling over love potions. Ginny brushed past the cosmetic section, where she noticed several young men were gathered in consternation. She recognized Theodore Nott's voice and smiled when she heard him say, "I don't care that you don't want to be seen in public here, Draco, but I have got to pick up Tracey a birthday present. She said she wanted WonderWitch makeup, so I've got to get her some, all right?"

Draco huffily replied "Well, don't take all day, mate. I don't care if Tracey Davis wanted the moon, if I have to stand here listening to all these witches for much longer I'm going to lose my mind."

"Just because you and Pansy broke up doesn't mean the rest of us are out of luck with the ladies. Maybe you should look at the love potions, eh, Draco?"

Ginny rolled her eyes and continued her search for Astoria. She hurried to her side when she finally saw her standing in front of the Pygmy Puff cage.

"Oh, Ginny, look! They're just adorable!" Astoria grabbed Ginny's arm and pulled her to the cage. "Would George mind if I pet one?"

"No, I wouldn't mind at all, here you go." George opened the cage with a flourish. "What color? We have the standard Hogwarts Four, and also the wide range of Witchly Wonder Shades: Purple, pink, light blue, and pastel yellow."

"Um. Green?" Astoria looked into the cage eagerly. Ginny picked up a pink one and made a cooing noise at it. George handed her the green puffball, which she held gently in the palm of her hand. Astoria petted it with two fingers. "George, how much are they?"

"You may have that one on the house, if Angelina and I may come to one of your games." Goerge winked at Astoria. She squealed and kissed the top of the Pygmy Puff. "Of course! I'll send you tickets!"

"Oh, Ginny! Help me name it! What do you think about Selene? Is that a good name?" Ginny was distracted by the pair of grey eyes that peered through the shelf of Patented Day-Dream Charms. They were watching Astoria with rapt intensity.

"Hmm?" Ginny turned to Astoria. She handed Ginny the puffy animal and asked, "So, do you think Selene is a good name?"

Ginny grinned at the noises the Pygmy Puff was making, and replied, "Yes. Yes, I do think that's a great name." Ginny returned Selene to her new owner and tried to glance over the displays. She thought she caught a glimpse of pale blonde hair, but the young man had darted away. Ginny wondered what Draco was doing spying on them, but decided it wasn't worth pursuing. She wasn't even sure if it was Draco.

She turned to Astoria with a smile, "C'mon, let's say goodbye to George and Angelina, and go get dinner." They found George busy filling up bags of sugar hexes and tongue-ton-toffee for an eager kid.

"George, Angelina, we're headed to dinner. Thanks for showing me the Quidditch Pitch. It's brilliant. Really, it is. I want one." Ginny gave her brother and sister-in-law a quick hug goodbye, and then she and Astoria headed out into the business of Diagon Alley to find dinner.

As the door clanged shut behind them, Ginny noticed Draco Malfoy standing quietly across the street. He was leaning against the streetlight, and had Ginny not, by chance, glanced in his direction, she never would have noticed him. She gave him a curt nod, which he returned. He suddenly walked purposefully across the street, robes flapping around him. They were directly in his path. Ginny noticed Astoria's eyes widened as she watched Draco. He slowed as he reached them and gave her a smile. "Hello, Miss Greengrass. How are you ladies this evening?"

She blushed and glanced down at the Pygmy Puff in her hands. She said softly, "Hello, Mastor Malfoy. I'm fine. How are you?"

"I'm well, thank you for asking. I'm waiting on Theodore, the poor sap is trying to find a gift for his girlfriend. I should go rescue him from the perfumes and make-up. Maybe I should suggest he get Miss Tracey a Pygmy Puff?" Draco motioned to the green ball of fluff that Astoria was holding.

"Oh, they're so adorable! I bet she'd like it." Astoria blushed under the direct attention of Draco.

"Well, you ladies have a wonderful evening." Malfoy gave them a small bow—really, it was an incline of the head—and strode quickly up the stairs to Weasley's Wizard Wheezes.

Ginny, who was silent the entire time, pursed her lips and regarded Astoria thoughtfully.

"What? What's that look for?" Astoria asked.

"I think he fancies you."

Astoria blushed even more red and shook her head in the negative.

"Well, it's obvious you fancy him, anyway!" Ginny nudged Astoria with her shoulder. "C'mon." The two girls walked down Diagon Ally, teasing each other and laughing.


	4. Constraints

Author's Note:

My shout outs and dedications: So, is this Beside Moonlight the same one who left the first review? I was going to message you back, but you weren't signed in, and it confused me. =D I would like to tell everyone that Lady Elizabeth of New York left my so many reviews (half of my current reviews are from her!), it positively encouraged me to keep writing. Thank you; you're amazing!

So, I'm trying to be as absolutely cannon compliant as possible. BUT, there's nothing cannon (that I've found) that says what Draco's job is post Hogwarts. There is this wicked cool picture of Draco as a healer by chouette-e on [use the powers of google magic and summon that image, do it, do it now!]...and I've always kind of liked the idea of him as a healer. It's potion-y, repentance-y, and kind of...well, perfect for him. I've also seen a lot of Draco taking over the ruined family business, a Hogwarts teacher, a potion maker/apothecary owner, employed by the Ministry, a detective...What, dear readers, should I choose as his profession? I took some liberties with Marcus Flint's profession...I was thinking how hard it would be for a blue-collar worker to fit into marrying someone upper-class like Daphne.

Anyway, enjoy:

* * *

August 4th

After last practice's broken nose incident, Gwenog relented on the bludgers and had Ginny working on speed and agility drills. Ginny circled the pitch in a weird nose-dive, high-climb pattern. She waved as she passed Astoria, who was working one-on-one with Gretchen Smith. Gwenog had finally realized she was getting zero practice because the other two chasers never passed her the quaffle.

"Astoria, do you think we stand a chance this year?" Gretchen tossed the quaffle, and it went wide of the hoop. Astoria reacted without thinking, sliding into reverse to stop the ball's movement. She reached out and swatted the ball back to her teammate.

"I don't know. I guess, against the Cannons, sure. And maybe the Wanderers, they're not so hot this year. Definitely we'll lose if we have to play the Magpies, though." Astoria dove for the quaffle, barely preventing a score.

Gretchen scowled at the save and tried for a left-hand shot. "Also, the Falcons. They're ferocious. Their beaters scare me."

_"Hey!_" Gwenog whistled sharply and interrupted the conversation. Gretchen held the quaffle and watched her zip up on her broom. "Ladies! Listen to me. You, especially, Smith. You two need to step up the practice. Less talk. You both haven't had a pro-game yet, and it's going to be brutal." Astoria's face fell at the scolding, and she nodded seriously.

"Yes, ma'am, Miss Gwenog." Gwenog glared at the title, but didn't pause her tirade to comment.

"You are going to hate this, Astoria, but you depend entirely too much on your hands. The quaffle is no bludger. It will not break your nose. _Incarcerous!" _A thin, shiny black rope shot out from the end of Gwenog's wand and slipped around Astoria's wrists. It bound her hands to the handle of her broom. Astoria's eyes shot wide open as she struggled momentarily against the shock of being immobilized.

"Calm down, calm down, Astoria. You can still steer your broom. I want you to use your feet, body, or head to stop the quaffle. No more hands." Gwenog reached out and patted Astoria's shoulder gently. She rounded on Gretchen, who was giggling at her friend's handicap. "And YOU! If you still can't score on her with her hands tied, you get to start showing up for extra practices, got it?!" Gwenog brandished her wand under Gretchen's nose.

Gretchen gulped and nodded. "Yes, coach. Got it."

"Good. Get moving, ladies. You're burning daylight."

After practice, Astoria slumped against her locker. "Did you see that?"

She rubbed her wrists and scowled. Ginny couldn't contain her laughter. "Are you seriously complaining to me about Gwenog's training techniques?"

Astoria wrinkled her nose and rolled her shoulders. "Yeah, you're right. Sweet Salazar, I'm gonna be sore tomorrow."

Ginny shrugged into a blue robe that offset her hair nicely. "Did you want to come over for dinner?"

Astoria bit her lip. "Father expects me back for dinner today. Daphne and Marcus are in town."

"Ah. Okay, well, have fun! I can't believe Flint is your brother-in-law!" Ginny rolled her eyes.

Astoria smiled, "I hate it when they visit. He spends the whole time trying to schmooze my parents or talk to me about his quidditch glory days from Hogwarts. It really burns him that I'm a professional player now." Astoria finished applying her make up and added, as an after thought, "Well, I guess I'm a professional. It isn't like I've played any games."

"That just means you have a perfect win-loss record, Tori." Ginny patted her friend on the shoulder. "Hey, if you want to come over, or whatever, just send me an owl. I hate being cooped up in that house without Harry."

"Sure, Gin. I'll let you know." Ginny grinned, and apparated home.

* * *

Astoria Greengrass had a terrible day at practice, and she knew that the day wasn't going to get any better. She delayed going home as long as possible, because she couldn't stomach the thought of sitting through another family dinner where her mother was overly critical of her hair, or her clothes, or how she was cutting her food. Her father would spend the entire meal reciting a litany of the virtues of each potential eligible bachelor that he knew. The entire time, she'd have Daphne smirking at her from across the table. The icing on the cake would be the insufferable Marcus Flint with his snide little comments about how she wasn't good enough to play on a professional quidditch team. Astoria shoved her mascara into her backpack and braced herself against the sink. She could feel the tension building behind her eyes.

Astoria rubbed the bridge of her nose. With a sigh, she picked up her wand and apparated to her family's property. She slipped through the large, wrought iron gates, and walked slowly up the garden path to the front door.

She slipped inside the house quietly, and ducked through the foyer. She touched the glass of the large grandfather clock—for luck, a habit she'd started as a young girl to appease the Chizpurfles that Daphne had told her lived there. "If you touch the glass they can eat a little bit of your magic. If you don't feed them, they will attack you in your bed in the middle of the night!" Daphne finished this authoritative revelation with, 'I learned about them in Care of Magical Creatures Class! You just wait 'til you get to Hogwarts!'

Even though Astoria had since learned that Chizpurfles did not live in the grandfather clock, and even if they did, they couldn't "steal" her magic, she still pressed her palm to the glass every time she walked past the clock.

Astoria had barely made it up the stairs when her mother descended on her. "Astoria, dear, you must change out of those awful clothes. I didn't raise my daughter to look like a muggle. Put on your nice robes, the new ones we just bought from Malkin's. And let your hair down. You know how pulling your hair back makes your forehead look huge. And accents that dreadful widow's peak." Her mother brushed her finger's against Astoria's forehead. "Come on, hurry up, Daphne and Marcus will arrive any minute."

Biting back a bitter reply—because it would only start a fight-Astoria allowed her mother to herd her into her bedroom. She stood in front of the vanity mirror and began pulling out her French braid. Her mother was rifling through the closet for 'suitable robes.'

"Oh! Astoria! I thought I heard mother in here, nagging!" Daphne strode through Astoria's bedroom door and sat down on the bed. Her purple robes made her blue eyes seem darker. "Marcus is downstairs playing wand-snooker with father. They're soooo boring." Daphne rolled her eyes.

"Well, I'll go check on dinner, dears. Make sure Queenie knows to use the good silver. Put these on. Hurry up!" Their mother placed some robes for Astoria on the bed and headed out of the room.

"So, how's Quidditch going?" Daphne's tone carried a hint of derision.

"Mmm. Practice was rough. Gearing up for the big game." Astoria shrugged.

"I don't see why you want to play, anyhow." Daphne picked up her sister's brush and ran it through her own dark hair.

"Well, Daphne, you've never understood me." Astoria glared at her sister in the mirror.

"A truer statement has never been made. C'mon. I need to rescue Marcus from father. Especially if he's got the brandy out."

Astoria sighed and slipped into the robes her mother had left on the bed. She followed her older sister down the stairs to their father's den. Sure enough, he and Marcus were getting drunk and placing outlandish wagers on the outcome of their wand-snooker match.

"Father, let's go eat." Daphne touched her father's elbow.

"Oh, fine. The game was just starting to get good." Her father grinned sloppily over the snifter of brandy.

"I know, father. I'd appreciate it if you two wouldn't wager my house, though." Grinning, Daphne led her father and husband from the room. Astoria closed the bottle of brandy and wiped the bar table down. Before she finished, Queenie the house-elf appeared.

"Missus Astoria shouldn't be cleaning, she shouldn't! She is going to be late for dinner!" Queenie snatched the rag from Astoria. She cut her eyes at her and pointed to the door. "She needs to be hurrying!"

"Oh, fine, Queenie, fine." Astoria smiled at the house elf and hurried into the formal dining hall where her family was sitting.

Queenie had worked her usual magic with dinner. The large roast was simmering in its juices, and the boiled potatoes were buttery and seasoned with just the right amount of spices. Astoria even enjoyed the carrots, because Queenie had coated them with brown sugar and honey. Astoria wasn't paying much attention to the conversation-she was enjoying her meal. Daphne was talking about Tracey Davis and Theodore Nott's impending marriage, and Millicent Bulustrode's graduation from her apprenticeship to some potion's master in eastern Bulgaria. It wasn't until she heard her brother-in-law observe that he could get his old quidditch team together to meet Astoria that she jerked her gaze away from dinner.

"What?" She glanced from Marcus to her mother, then to her father, then back to Marcus. "I already know your old team, Marcus."

Daphne spoke before her husband had a chance to mollify Astoria, "But they've changed, some of them. And you're not that nerdy, socially awkward Hogwarts student with stringy brown hair and a stuffed bookbag anymore, Astoria." Daphne said archly.

"But you're still a bitch." Astoria muttered darkly.

"Astoria! That type of language is NOT allowed at the table!" Her mother set down her wine glass with slightly more force than necessary.

"Especially because I was just trying to encourage you, Astoria! Your self-confidence is terrible." Daphne dabbed at her lips with the napkin very primly.

Astoria bit back the retort she was in the middle of making, and instead turned to her father. "May I be excused, father? I'm starting to develop a bit of indigestion."

"You may be excused, but do think on it, would it be so terrible to have a start-of-season Quidditch party?" Her father raised his eyebrows.

"No, papa. It wouldn't be so terrible, if I could decide on the guest list." Astoria smiled sadly, and took her leave from the table.

She didn't realize Marcus had followed her down the hall. "Astoria." He called her name softly. When she turned around she was startled to see how uncomfortable her muscular brother-in-law looked.

"I'm sorry, I didn't realize it was a sore subject for you." He shoved his hands into his pockets. "I don't like displeasing your father. Daphne gets—well, never mind. I won't suggest any of my friends, if they're really so terrible. I'm lucky that your family let me marry her. I'm not smart. If it wasn't for my father getting me the job as a metal-charmer, well, I'm not even sure I'd be able to support your sister." Astoria took a step toward her brother-in-law. She realized with a start that she'd never made the effort to get to know him—mainly because of her strained relationship with Daphne. Marcus continued, "Plus, you know, I don't think your family likes me. I'm definitely not good enough for your sister. Most of my friends probably aren't good enough for you, either."

"You know, Marcus, even though you've been married to Daphne for the past year, I didn't know what your job is. Do you enjoy metal-charming?" Astoria smiled and touched his shoulder. She knew Daphne liked her men strong, athletic, and handsome. She hadn't married Marcus for his brains; he'd failed his exams his senior year and had to stay behind. She thought it was kind of sweet how in-love he was with her sister, after all this time. Stupid, but sweet.

"Yes. The best part is, I get to make the snitches for the International Quidditch Association." He grinned, proudly. "Maybe I'll charm one so only you can catch it! Except I'd probably lose my job." His face fell a little at the thought.

Astoria smiled up at Marcus, "At least you've still got Quidditch."

"I wish I could've made it professionally. That's why I tease you. I never felt happier than when I was playing at Hogwarts. I'm just jealous." Marcus smiled, a little sadly.

On a whim to cheer him up, Astoria decided, "Okay, Marcus. If you promise they're not going to be Neanderthals and spend the entire party getting drunk and re-living the glory quidditch days of Hogwarts, you can tell father that I've agreed to let you invite—" her mouth curled in distaste "—prospective suitors to a pre-season quidditch party" She paused, and added, "I think you're just fine for Daphne. I'm certainly not above any of your friends. I'm just sick of my parents trying to run my life."

His face lit up in surprise. "Really? You would do that for me? It would get your dad off my back about just being a dumb metal-charmer."

"I'm not doing it for my dad. I'll tell you a little secret. My familiy doesn't like me much, either." Astoria rolled her eyes. "Anyway, go tell father you convinced me. Maybe it's not too late for one of us to finally get the Greengrass stamp of approval." Astoria winked at her big, dumb brother-in-law and headed up the stairwell, hand dancing over the ornate carved banister, and disppaeared into her room.


	5. Plans

Ginny sprawled out on the couch, nose buried in her weathered copy of Daughter of Regals—an old tale of a princess whose animagus was a dragon. Charlie had given it to her when he left for the reserve in Romania all those years ago. It was still one of her favorite tales.

Alpy strode into the living room with a silver tray. He proffered it with a bow. "Missus Ginny is having a letter!"

Ginny glanced at Alpy and stifled a grin. "A silver platter, really?"

Alpy sniffed, offended. "Missus Ginny should be letting Alpy do his job."

Rolling her eyes at the house elf's determination to bring sophistication to the Potter house, she reached for the letter and scolded, "You could've just let the owl into the house."

"They are being dirty animals. House elves are living to serve, Missus Ginny." The unspoken admonishment was, "So please let me do my job." With another bow, Alpy turned and walked out of the room, with the tray tucked under his arm.

Ginny unrolled the parchment and read,

"Gin, still up for coffee? Tori"

Ginny immediately headed for the old roll-top desk and grabbed a sheet of parchment. Before she could unstopper the ink, Alpy was at her side.

"Would Missus Ginny be liking if Alpy delivered her reply personally?"

Ginny looked at the little elf, who stood solemnly with his hands clasped neatly in front of him.

"Sure, Alpy, you do that and I'll start the coffee." Ginny smiled at the elf.

"No, missus Ginny, Alpy was finishing brewing the coffee already before he bringed the letter!" and with a bow, he apparated out of the room.

"That little shit!" Ginny laughed and headed into the kitchen. Sure enough, Alpy had set out a tray with biscuits, mugs, and a carafe of coffee. Ginny wondered fleetingly where, and more importantly, why, Harry had picked up a carafe. Maybe it was from the house-elf. She grabbed the tray and muttered to herself that she was really going to have to have a stern talk with the pushy little elf, and headed back into the living room. She picked up her book and waited for Astoria to appear.

Moments later, her teammate stepped through the Floo. She flicked her wand to clean off the dust, and smiled at Ginny. "Hey. Thanks for letting me come over."

Ginny marked her place in the book and rose to greet her friend. "Hey. Alpy has set us up a feast, make yourself at home."

Astoria tucked a fly-away strand of hair behind her ear and sank gratefully into the cushions. Ginny grabbed a mug and curled up at the other end of the couch, feet tucked up under her.

"How's the family?" Ginny realized, with a bit of a start, that she knew absolutely nothing about Astoria's personal life. Most of the girls on the team had played professionally for several years as a cohesive unit—a side effect was knowing personal information about each other.

"Ugh. They're were starting to give me a migraine. Although, I think I realized today I might have been a bit quick to judge Marcus. I just never got along with Daphne, so I just assumed that her husband would be as obnoxious as her." Astoria reached for a chocolate digestive and her mug of coffee. She glanced at it, and immediately set about adding cream and sugar.

"I don't know Marcus very well. I know he's a decent Quidditch player." Ginny smiled as she sipped her coffee.

Astoria laughed, "Is that how I should determine if I like someone or not, now that I'm officially a Harpy?"

A grin spread across Ginny's face. "Maybe!"

"Well, Quidditch aside, I just never bothered to get to know him. I felt bad for him today. Father is a pretentious bastard and Marcus, well…" Astoria paused, trying to find the right words.

"I've always thought my parent's emphasis on high-society was stupid. Mum always pushed for me to be this little debutante and Father is expecting us to marry 'within or above our station.'" Astoria made little quotes in the air with her fingers. "But Marcus, he most definitely is not above our station. Daphne married down. But, I don't think she could've found a single guy out there who would ever love her the way Marcus loves her. I wish I could have someone look at me like that." Astoria smiled sadly.

Ginny was a little shocked that Astoria was so quick to confide in her. She reached for some shortbread, because she wasn't sure what to say.

Astoria sighed and stirred her coffee. "But, my family doesn't see that. Family, love, these things aren't important to them. Not even to Daphne, really. She doesn't love him like he loves her. They just focus on how he's not good enough to be a Greengrass."

She dropped her gaze to her coffee. "And that's how they treat me, too."

"I think, Tori, that you'll find the right guy. Someone who values love and family and you, someone you deserve." Ginny leaned across the couch to throw her arm around Astoria and give her a quick hug.

"Thanks, Gin." Astoria leaned into the hug.

After a few moments of companionable silence while the two girls drank their coffee, Ginny asked, "So, what are you doing this weekend since we don't have practice?"

"Oh, Merlin." Astoria picked up the carafe and poured herself more coffee.

"Do you think the girls would be interested in coming over to a party on Saturday?" She tugged nervously at her braid and looked at Ginny with a hopeful expression.

"A party? Since when did you become an extrovert…?" Ginny, already caught off guard from Astoria confiding in her earlier, was at a complete loss for words now. _A party? Really? Astoria could barely bring herself to hold an extended conversation with anyone on the team, except me, and maybe Smith, _Ginny thought.

Astoria blushed bright red and mumbled at her coffee mug, "It's not really my idea."

Realizing how uncomfortable Astoria was, Ginny backpedaled, "Well, I mean, I'd be down for a party. I'm sure Smith would come, too."

"Well, Mum thinks if we have a party I might meet someone." Still blushing, the brunette rolled her eyes.

"So they aren't staying in pureblood, high society tradition and arranging your marriage? I mean, didn't you say that Daphne's marriage was arranged?"

"Yeah, and technically Flint is a Black, so I guess she didn't 'marry down,' but he can't touch the family wealth so they're living off his income. Anyway, yeah, it was arranged. It isn't like they're going to just marry me blindly to someone if they can help it. I take it that your family isn't into the traditions of wizard-kind?" Astoria was a little surprised that someone with Ginny's lineage would not continue with any of the traditions that her family felt were so important.

"Oh, no, we're 'blood traitors!'" Ginny laughed. The epithet had become a bit of a running joke among those in Dumbledore's Army; although truthfully those from the Order weren't as amused by it. But they hadn't been in Hogwarts that fateful year.

Ginny added, "Besides, if I left my marriage to Mum to plan she would've married me to Harry during his 5th year." She tossed her fiery mane of hair over her shoulder and shifted on the couch. "So who's planning this party?" She looked darn comfortable, with a foot propped up on the coffee table.

"I have no idea. I want nothing to do with it. Probably mother and Daphne." She desperately hoped that Ginny would give her a way out of the party, or, since that was not really an option, at least maybe show up and give her some moral support. She resolutely sipped on her coffee as she tried to make peace with her rash decision to oblige Marcus.

"I think it would be more fun if we planned the party instead of leaving it to your mum. We could get the rest of the team involved, and make it more about the team and less about finding you a boyfriend." Ginny arched an eyebrow in question.

Astoria was silent for a moment, thinking. _Damn. So much for getting out of a party. Ginny's gonna make this a huge event._

"That's an idea. Maybe we could even have it at the Quidditch Pitch." Astoria wasn't totally convinced, but decided that between having her mother plan a party or Ginny, she trusted Ginny to at least make it a fun, enjoyable time.

"Yeah, we could have broom races! And a mock Quidditch game! Oh, of course, we will have a picnic tent, get a few kegs of butterbeer from Madame Rosmerta." Ginny was warming to the idea of a party and started tossing out ideas.

Astoria felt herself being caught up in the enthusiasm, "I'll mention it to mum. Do you think we should talk to Miss Gwenog?"

"I'll mention it tomorrow at practice. That would only be a concern if we had to have it at the pitch. You'd rather have it there than at your house?" Ginny asked curiously.

"Yeah, the less my family gets involved with this the better." Astoria nodded thoughtfully, and added, "You know, Gin, we could even make cauldron cakes, and decorate them to look like snitches."

Laughing, Ginny shook her head in the negative. "I'm decent at potions. I can cook okay-Mum made sure of that-but I am not about to take on making a hundred cauldron cakes!"

Astoria broke out in a huge grin at the expression of consternation that Ginny was wearing. "They're so easy! Professor Snape taught us when we were first years."

"Snape?!" Ginny choked on her coffee. "Are we talking about the same Snape? The same Potion Master? Head of Slythe—oh. Was this like some Slytherins only thing?" She glared at her friend.

"No, he taught the whole class, I swear. It was after our potions final, right before the end of term. Besides, he wasn't as bad as Professor MacGonagal!" Astoria set her cup down on the tray.

"He wasn't as bad as McGonagall! What's that supposed to mean!" Ginny was half joking, and so she spoke with a smile, but she was still surprised that her friend, apparently, didn't like her old Head of House.

"Oh c'mon, Gin! She played favorites, you lion-types didn't want to notice it, but she was just as bad about it as Professor Snape! And she was sooooo strict! Merlin's beard, her homework assignments used to take me hours!" Astoria tossed her hands in the air to emphasis just how severe McGonagall was.

"I think we'll have to agree to disagree. Actually, no, I agree: he was pretty fair as a professor. I worked so hard in his class to get good marks. His time as headmaster though…." Ginny's voice trailed off, as if she couldn't bear to speak of those dark times.

Astoria shrugged and agreed, "Yeah. You're right, Professor McGonagall made a much better headmaster than Professor Snape. Let's not end our coffee on a bad note, though. Are you going to talk to Miss Gwenog tomorrow? If you are, I'll tell my parents when I get home."

A smile flitted across Ginny's face. "Yeah, I'll talk to her. She'll think it's a great idea." Ginny paused and struggled with a moment of internal debate, and finally blurted out, "Tori, if you ever need to get away, like, if your family is as…" she floundered to choose the right word, and settled on, "…uncaring….as you say they are, you can always come over here. We've got a few spare bedrooms." Ginny misinterpreted the look on Astoria's face, and hurried to make the offer less awkward. "I mean, if you want. Harry's never around. It'd be nice to have some company is what I'm saying."

"I'd like that. I don't know how my folks would handle it," Astoria paused, and then repeated more to herself that to Ginny, "I'd like that, a lot."

Ginny grinned. Astoria yawned, and after a quick glance at the clock on the mantle realized she had entirely lost track of time.

"Oh, Gin, I'm sorry, I gotta run." Alpy materialized on on the far side of the coffee table. He pushed Ginny's feet off the table and shot her a stern look. Astoria bit her bottom lip to keep from laughing. The elf straightened his bowtie, which looked ridiculous because the elf was not wearing a shirt, just black shorts—clothing and a paycheck were among the stipulations Harry had insisted on before allowing the house-elf reign of the Potter property. Certain he was presentable once more, Alpy reached for the tray. With a small bow the elf sauntered toward the kitchen.

Ginny rolled her eyes at the retreating figure. "All right, Tori. Get some rest. Tomorrow is gonna be long."

* * *

The next morning Ginny led the quidditch team in stretching exercises while Gwenog reviewed her training strategy from the sidelines. After the stretches, the girls moved into jumping-jacks, pushups, and crunches. When they finished, they were sweaty and a little breathless and were all sipping from their water bottles. Their moment of peace was interrupted though.

"Alrighty, Harpies, let's run through the warm-up drills in the air!" Gwenog yelled, and zipped over to the girls on her broom.

After a few groans, the girls all went airborne, except Ginny. "Hey, Gwennie, do you think we could throw a pre-season game? For our families and friends? Have a picnic and some games here on the pitch?"

Still perched on her broom, Gwenog handed the clipboard to her team captain and tried to tame her wild, black hair. She twisted it around in a tight bun, but despite her efforts a few strands came loose. "Um, yeah, sure, Ginny, that sounds great. I'm not planning this shit, though. Or cleaning up afterward. If you and the girls want to have a party, as long as it doesn't interfere with practice, sure." Gwenog snatched her clipboard back from Ginny, who was nosily flipping through the pages of notes. Ginny grinned, knowing that Gwenog's angry-sounding fussing meant she thought it was a great idea.

"Awesome. Saturday evening, then." Ginny grinned and headed over to the goals to tell Astoria that they had gotten the go-ahead from Gwenog.

"Oh, and no alcohol! I don't want you messing up your training regimen!"

Ginny ignored the last little outburst and headed skyward. She caught up with the beaters, who were attempting to beat the bludgers to each other from progressively farther distances. "Jamie! Gardenia! We're having a party this Saturday. For our families and stuff—a preseason game. Can you two handle setting up the pitch and getting the word out? The more the merrier!"

"Hell yes! Who's coordinating food?" Gardenia smacked the bludger with enthusiasm, and it sailed past Jamie in a streak.

Ginny braked gently and said "I dunno, I was thinking I'd get my Mum involved, and Astoria. You want to help?"

"No, I just want to make sure we've got enough, that's all." Gardenia slid to the right to meet the returning bludger. After she returned it to Jamie, she added, "If your mom is cooking, I think we'll be fine."

Laughing, Ginny swooped over to the goals, where Hannah and Anna were keeping Astoria occupied. Smith looked a little out of place, but Astoria was making a point to return every quaffle directly to her.

"Hey! Hey! Stop a sec." Ginny hovered above the goals and gave a sharp whistle to get their attention. Smith held the Quaffle under her arm nonchalantly, and the girls waited for Ginny to finish. "Hey. Ladies! Look, Gwenog gave the go-ahead for us to have a party this Saturday. The beaters are gonna be here to set up tents after practice, and my mum and Mrs. Greengrass are going to help with food. We need to get the word out. Also, it's kind of a bring-your-own-beer deal."

"A party? You need help setting up?" Smith asked as she tossed the quaffle to Anna.

"Yeah, they will probably need some help setting up and cleaning up afterward." Ginny nodded, thankful that the girls were all instantly taken with the idea of a celebration.

"Hey, are we going to have games? You know, like broom races?" Hannah asked.

"Oh! Yeah, for my birthday last year we had a dozen snitches released and anyone who caught one got a prize." Anna added.

"I bet the joke shop would offer some prizes." Ginny mused aloud.

"STOP TALKING LADIES, AND GET TO WORK!" Gwenog's voice reached a high pitch and Ginny started laughing.

"We'll discuss this after practice, okay?" Astoria stood up on her broom to block Smith's quaffle-toss and Ginny slowly drifted to the ground. She shrugged into the awful weighted jacket and took to the air for speed drills. It was going to be a very long day indeed.

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**Author's Note: **Sorry for the length of time since my last update. Two weeks! Yikes! I appreciate all the kind words and reviews! I was shocked when I logged in and saw that this story is actually garnering attention! Who would've guessed? Oh, also, the story that I referenced really IS about a princess and her "animagus" form (although the author doesn't call it "animagus," the princess does change into a dragon). It's a short story by Stephen R. Donaldson, who is an amazing fantasy/scifi author). Well, that is all, I'm off to finish the chapter on my other story, which I'm equally behind on updating...*hangs head in shame*


	6. Interference

Gwenog had been won over by the complete chaos that Ginny created—it was an irresistible force. "If you don't let me take over, this will be a complete disaster," the coach had declared imperiously.

"The party is shaping up just fine without your interference!" Ginny replied a bit snarkily, as she tried to _Wingardium Leviosa _the **Holyhead Harpies Preseason Party!** banner into the air. She was mad that her friend and coach had been so dismissive of the party, and was now, in Ginny's eyes, "butting in."

"Organizing you lot is what I do for a living." Gwenog gave a small snort of derision and motioned expansively toward the rest of the team and a few members of the family. They were trying to set up tents and tables of food and nothing was being accomplished.

Gwenog added in a much kinder tone, "And I'm sorry I wasn't supportive of a party before, Ginny. This is really a good idea. It's bringing everyone together." Gwenog patted Ginny's shoulder. "C'mon. Let me help."

Ginny sighed, and grinned at Gwenie. "You are the bossiest person I know. Go ahead. Good luck managing my mother, though."

With a grin, Gwenog mounted her broom and hovered a few feet in the air. She pointed her wand at her throat and muttered, _Sonorus!_ before attempting to get the disorganized crowd's attention. An ear-splitting whistle caused the entire pitch to cease moving. "All right, ladies! Here's what's going down! Mrs. Weasley is in charge of food. I need Gardenia, Jamie, and Astoria to help her! Astoria, you keep working on your Cauldron Cakes, they smell amazing. Mrs. Weasley, do you need more help, or is that sufficient?"

Mrs Weasley set a large platter of food down on the only standing table. "I think we'll be able to transport all the food from the burrow to here, the three of us. The boys are going to be arriving shortly. They can help."

"Right-o. Thank you." Gwenog turned to Marcus. "Flinty, dear, I need you to go get a hold of Rosmerta and find out where our keg is. We ordered two kegs and enough bottles to get a hippogriff drunk."

Marcus nodded, a little relieved to get away from the mayhem. He apparated with a loud crack!

"You lot!" Gwenog rounded on George, Angelina, and the three chasers. "Get the rest of the tables set up first! Mrs. Weasley needs a place to put all her wonderful food. _Then_ work on the tents. Please, for the love of Helga, someone help Ginny with that banner." Gwenog clapped her hands together authoritatively. "Chop, chop! Get moving!" She flicked her hands in a shooing motion, and instantly the pitch was filled with renewed activity—but this time, organized and purposeful.

"I'll help Ginny in a second, Coach! You'll want me to finish this!" George was setting up his miniature quidditch pitch and blew off Gwenog's bossiness. She swooped down to see what he was working on, and almost fell off her broom.

"Sweet Salazar's eyebrows! Is that, oh _Merlin! _It is! It is, hot damn, look! It's me!" Gwenog reached for the miniature character but George slapped her hand.

"Don't touch!" George continued to inspect his creation, muttering _repairo!_ when he saw a small scratch.

He turned to Gwenog and asked, "Who do you want to see your team play?"

"Puddlemere!" She was so close to the miniature pitch her nose was almost touching the display glass.

George obliged her and unceremoniously dumped the navy-blue Puddlemere United players into the pitch and then patted Gwenog's shoulder. "Have fun."

George walked over to Ginny, smiling, and cast a placement charm to hold the banner in place over the pitch. "Hey sis."

"George! Hey!" Ginny tucked her wand into her sleeve.

"Check this out!" George tossed two small balls in the air. They hovered on either side of the sign and shot out little firework sparks.

Ginny's eyes widened in delight. "This is a new product!"

"It's being beta tested today. Permanent Fireworks, part of the Wildfired Fireworks Wizzbang line. Wish we had thought of them for ol' Umbridge!"

"I think ya'll did enough for that old hag. A small patch of your swamp is still there, you know." Ginny gave her brother a quick hug in greeting.

George laughed, amused. "I know. Best bit of advertising for the shop. We get first years looking for the Portable Swamp, not realizing it's a little out of their price-range." George gave his little sister an appraising look. "Are you okay, Gin? You seem sad."

She shrugged. "It's just, everything's all changing now. You know?" George raised his eyebrows, but didn't comment.

"Well, I mean, everyone from Dumbledore's Army is all gone. I just feel lonely, I guess. Not that there's anything wrong with having a party with these guys, but my close friends are all gone."

"Ah." George nodded, sadly. "Yeah. Hermione is busy with Ron, Harry's off in training, Luna is chasing snurkleflits—"

Ginny interrupted her brother with a laugh. "Snurkleflits?"

George grinned impishly. "Yeah. You didn't hear? They nest in the tearducts—" George was cut off again by Ginny's laughter. He shook his head at his sister in amusement and they headed over to help assemble the stage for the Weird Sisters performance.

"Oh, George, I need your help with something." Ginny positioned the stairs to the side of the stage.

"Yeah?" George was placing the charmed amplifiers to either side of the stage.

"Well, the real reason we're throwing this party is because Astoria's folks are trying to marry her off—they hope she'll meet someone. Her brother-in-law, Flint, is bringing a ton of his old school chums by, too. So, could you and the guys be all protective of her?" Ginny stood with one hand on her hip, other hand fluttering around to accent her conversation.

"Protective?"

Ginny's hand flew to her other hip, and she stood there glaring at George. "Yeah, don't act like you don't know what I'm talking about! You lumps I've got for brothers don't give Harry and me a single minute of peace! I can't even get close enough to kiss him when you are around!" George listened to his sister with a growing sense of amusement, and by the time she finished her exclamation George laughing uncontrollably.

"Wait a minute, we're that obvious?"

"Well, no, it took me a lot longer than I'd like to admit to realize you were being intentional about it. Mainly Ron gave it away." Ginny crossed her arms and continued to glare at George, who was finally able to stop laughing.

"_Anyway, _George. If you could do that with Tori, like, whenever you see her mother bringing someone over to meet her, or _any _of the guys here trying to talk to her, if you could swoop in and do your little protective shit that you do, that'd be awesome."

George regarded his little sister thoughtfully for a moment, before studying Astoria from across the quidditch pitch. She was gazing intently into her cauldron, stirring carefully. "She's not very outgoing, is she?"

"Godric's nosehairs, no, she's terrified of large crowds. She's really sweet, though, George. If you weren't already snatched up by Angelina, I'd suggest you for her. Maybe we should try to hook her up with Charlie?" Ginny tilted her head and studied her friend.

"Nah, he's too much work for someone who was raised all high society like her. He'd die if he had to wear a nice robe to some family function. Plus, well, he's got no time for a wife. Let me go snatch up the gang. And maybe Fleur. We'll run interference." George started across the pitch toward his brothers who were helping Mrs. Weasley cart trays of food from the old battered Ford Anglia. He stopped midstride and turned to face Ginny. "Give her a heads up, though. Too many Weasleys can be overwhelming."

"You're telling me. Poor Harry." Ginny shook her head at the memories of Harry visiting the Burrow and headed toward the table piled high with cauldron cakes.

**Author's Note: **The Drastoria is starting soon! Flint is bringing all his old friends along, with the alcohol, and they're gonna crash the party. (relatively speaking) Thank you, as always, for your lovely comments this past week!


	7. Defense

"Gin! Try one!" Astoria handed a fresh cauldron cake to Ginny. She reached for it, but was distracted by a loud pop! a few metres away. Marcus arrived, and with him an entourage of former Slytherin men. A few of them were wrestling kegs into an upright position—apparently sidealong apparition with a keg was not as smooth as they were expecting. Ginny noticed that they unconsciously split into two groups. One clustered around Draco Malfoy; they were all in his year. The other group she didn't recognize at all.

"Those are all Marcus' friends. Adrien Pucey and Terence Higgs are the ones with the boxes of bottled firewhiskey." Astoria noticed Ginny's expression and tried to explain quietly why there were all these strange men arriving to the Holyhead Harpies party. "Miles Bletchley and Graham Montague have the other keg." Astoria looked at Ginny, worry filling her brown eyes. "You said it was okay, right? Like, you don't think Miss Gwenog will be upset?"

"Oh, no, Tori, the more the merrier. You said earlier that you were trying to avoid people playing match-maker today, right?" Ginny watched the guys laughing with each other. Graham had nudged Marcus, sharing an inside joke.

"Yeah, when mum gets here, she's going to drag every single one of them over to try to talk to me." Astoria began pouring ingredients into her cauldron for another batch of cakes.

Ginny grinned mischievously at Astoria. "Good. Tori, you need to think of this as a game of Quidditch."

"Hand me the ground cacao beans, Gin, would you?" Astoria was carefully measuring ingredients, brow furrowed in concentration.

"You aren't listening. Look, you obviously don't want to play offense and find a guy to get your mum off your back, I get that. But you definitely need to improve your defense strategy. And I got you covered on that, Tori." Ginny handed her friend the mortar and pestle full of powered cacao beans.

"Defense strategy with boys." Astoria looked at Ginny, completely dumbfounded.

"Yeah. Just like on the pitch. What's Gwenie always shouting?"

"The alphabet." Astoria rolled her eyes and began reciting, "Avoid, Block, Confound, Deflect, Evade—"

"—Yeah, yeah" Ginny interrupted, impatiently. "So the same thing. You see your mum or sister or whoever bringing a guy up, what do you do? Avoid! Like now, you're busy with your cakes, that's excellent."

Astoria started laughing. "Are you seriously applying Quidditch strategy to my love life?"

"Yes. Hush and listen. Next is block. Okay, I've enlisted help with that one. My brothers are on the lookout."

"You did that for me?" Astoria looked at Ginny in astonishment. Before Ginny could reply, Marcus had walked up to them and wrapped his arms around his sister-in-law.

"Hey, Astoria! Thanks for letting me bring the guys." Astoria gently patted Marcus' chest and moved awkwardly out of the hug.

"Thanks…I think. What did you tell them?" Astoria peered around Marcus at the growing crowd.

"Nothing." Marcus motioned for his friends to join them. "Just that they should talk to you."

Astoria blushed bright red and her wide eyes flickered to Ginny. "Oh Merlin." She whispered, panicked, "Gin, you gotta help me!"

"The Alphabet, Astoria." Ginny grinned, and watched Astoria process what Ginny was saying before Marcus interrupted.

Suddenly inspired, Astoria declared, "Oh, it's okay, Marcus, thanks. I've still got to wrap these up—I'll join you in a bit." Astoria ducked behind the cauldron like a shield.

Ginny, winked at Astoria and grabbed Marcus' elbow. "I'd like a butterbeer, come with me." Ginny ordered, then added, "I don't know them, they were ahead of me in school. They're your friends, right?" She looked over her shoulder at Astoria and mouthed silently, "See? Intercept!"

Astoria rolled her eyes and busied herself with her recipe.

"Uh. Yeah?" Marcus sounded confused. "All right. Don't be shy, Astoria." He smiled warmly at the now-pale Astoria, and headed off with Ginny.

"Guys! Hey, this is the Harpies' seeker!" Marcus, ever cheerful and oblivious, reached for a beer, which he cracked open and handed to Ginny.

"Ah, the Weaslette." Blaise drawled, surprised that Marcus walked over arm-in-arm with Ginny.

Ginny thrust her hand out to Blaise in greeting. "We were a few years apart, and different houses, and never really got to get to know each other."

Surprised, Blaise took her hand and gave it a cautious shake. Ginny carefully noted the rest of the gang's reactions—most wore looks of surprise. Theodore Nott's expression could best be described as wary.

"I don't think you know most of these guys. Miles Bletchley, Adrien Pucey, Graham Montague, and Terence Higgs. They're my mates. I think you know the rest of them from your years."

"Yeah, sorry to crash your party. We came because Marcus said there'd be free food and beer. And we're not really Harpies fans, either." The man who Marcus had introduced as Graham Montague spoke in a tone that said he wasn't really very sorry for crashing the party at all. He crossed his hairy arms, defiantly.

"Oh, no, we don't have many fans who aren't teenage girls or lecherous old men." Ginny grinned, nonplussed by Graham's aggressive body language.

Sensing conflict, Marcus tried to change the subject. "Terence was Slytherin's seeker before you arrived at Hogwarts, I think. Draco replaced him, though." Draco Malfoy, busy with the bottles of beer, gave Ginny a nod of recognition and returned to casting cooling charms on the bottles.

"Oh, another seeker?" Ginny smiled warmly at Terence. "I'd love talk strategy."

"I can't say I've watched many Harpies' games." Terence spoke softly.

"Ah, a Puddlemere United fan?" Ginny smiled genially.

"No, actually, Chudley Cannons."

"Oh, Merlin. You and my brother. You even have that same expression right there, the one that says 'I know you're about to make fun of my team and I'm prepared to fight you over it!'" Ginny laughed.

"We shall conquer!" Terence's voice held a tone of defiance and pride, as he recited the Cannon's motto.

Laughing, Draco chimed in, "Naw, man, your new motto is 'Let's just all keep our fingers crossed and hope for the best.'"

"You know what, fuck you and your Falcons!" Terence glared at Draco, and angrily grabbed a beer bottle. He cracked it open murderously.

Ginny glanced back at Astoria. Mrs. Greengrass and Daphne had arrived and crowded around Astoria. Mrs. Greengrass had somehow pulled her daughter away from the cauldron and was heading determinedly toward the group. Astoria trailed behind her mother, meekly. "Oh, shit." Ginny muttered to herself.

Before she could do anything, though, George swooped in and deflected Astoria away from Mrs. Greengrass. He flung his arm around her shoulder, "Hey, Astoria! I've been looking for you all morning! I wanted to ask you…" George's voice grew faint as he spun Astoria around and headed in the polar opposite direction of Ginny. Mrs. Greengrass turned around, flabbergasted, and not at all sure what had just happened. She saw though, that her daughter was talking with a man and decided to leave well enough alone—until she could figure out the identity of that wizard, anyway.

"Weaslette." Ginny rolled her eyes internally at the nickname, but attempted to smile at Draco nonetheless.

"Yes, Malfoy?"

"I thought your brother was with the Johnson girl." Ginny was surprised at the look of intensity that Draco was leveling at George.

"Yeah, he is. They're engaged." Ginny took a sip of her beer, curious as to what was bothering Draco.

"So, that Greengrass girl, she's like, what, a friend of the Weasley family?" Draco looked at Ginny, his slate gray eyes serious.

"No, she's never met my family before today. She's my friend, though." Ginny felt a flicker of surprise when she realized how quickly she had termed Astoria her friend. Immediately on the heels of that thought was another, 'but it's true, she IS my friend."

"So, is she single?" Draco asked as nonchalantly as possible.

Ginny felt her jaw drop in shock. Recovering, she replied carefully, "She's not available."

"What, she belong to you?" Draco sneered. "Won't Potter love that!"

"Ooooh, questioning my sexuality! That's mature. No, she doesn't belong to me. She's just out of_ your _league." Ginny felt she had endured enough insults from the Slytherin guests and Draco's insinuation was the final straw. She felt her temper fray. She was about to say some highly insulting things regarding Draco's parentage and Death Eater Scum associations, but the expression on Draco's face gave her pause. He looked-hurt? Embarrassed? She wasn't sure, and the expression had only flickered across his face for a second. Draco turned away from Ginny, and tried to discreetly rub his inner left forearm. He silently started helping Theodore with the rest of the butterbeer.

Puzzled at the lack of snarky retort from Draco, Ginny patted Marcus on the back. "Thank you for introducing me to your friends. I'm going to see if my mum needs help with the rest of the food." She smiled amiably at the young men, trying to be as diplomatic as possible to not ruin the day for Astoria. She headed toward her mother and the ever-growing table of food, mulling over Draco's interest in Astoria. It certainly explained his behavior in Diagon Alley the other day.

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**Author's Note: **Hello, my lovely readers, my favorite people in the world! I hope the weather is nicer wherever you are, because it crappy here. I know I promised some Drastoria, and I am working up to it, I promise! I'm trying to bring out Ginny and Astoria's friendship, along with developing their characters. I'm not sure if I'm pulling it off exactly how I want... I mean, at this point, Ginny is pretty independent but alone and having to forge new friendships, and we know virtually nothing about Astoria. How would it end up that she'd be sociable with a bunch of Slytherins? Does house rivalry continue in such extremes post Hogwarts? I would think not, at least, not if one were to continue to be a functioning member of wizarding society...The animosity can't be that great once they've graduated. Also...I still haven't figured out what Draco has been up to since he "graduated" Hogwarts. Did he even go back for that 7th Year? JKR is surprisingly mute on the subject of the Malfoy clan...*sigh*...these are the thoughts that keep me up late at night! haha! Anyway. Thank you for reading.


	8. Interaction

**Author's Note:** This chapter is for** ThePrettyPunker,** who so kindly asked me to update soon.

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Draco sipped his butterbeer and leaned against a tree to watch with irritation as the happy disorder of the party unfolded around him. The Weaslette had announced that there were 7 golden Snitches flying around the pitch, and invited the guests to catch them. There were prizes, supplied by her brother's joke shop. Draco had no interest in winning a Pygmy Puff or bags of candies, although, if he was honest with himself he wouldn't mind spending the afternoon in the air. It would be more enjoyable than listening to Blaise's complaining and Theodore's constant chatter about how wonderful his fiancée, Tracey, was.

He'd spent the better part of the morning trying to talk to Astoria, but every time he got close it seemed a Weasley was there. The worst was the oldest. Will? Phil? Something. His name was not important, the fact that he looked aggressive was enough reason for Draco to avoid him—he was massive and had some wicked looking scars on his face, and leveled the meanest looking scowl at Draco that he'd ever seen.

"Hey, Flint." He called out to his former Quidditch captain, who was occupied trying to tap the second keg.

"Hey yourself." Marcus sauntered over with a cup of beer and leaned on the tree. "Not a bad party, ya think?"

"Well," Draco began hesitantly, "I suppose. I'm surprised you invited us to a Harpies' party, though. I thought you fancied Puddlemere."

Marcus grinned sheepishly. "What, you aren't enjoying the company of the lovely Greengrass?"

Draco snorted and rolled his eyes. Marcus sat down next to Draco, stretching his long legs out and crossing his ankles. "Don't lie, I've been watching you. Why haven't you just talked to her already?"

Suddenly annoyed with the party and Marcus, Draco stood up and drained his beer in a long swig. Marcus continued, oblivious, "Why don't you take a broom and go catch her in the air?"

"I don't need advice from you." Draco walked off in a storm.

Marcus laughed, enjoying how easily he had nettled Draco. He called out, "Obviously, you do, since you're too much of a coward to even introduce yourself!"

"Fuck you!" Draco tossed his empty beer bottle into the trash and snatched one of the hideously decorated green and gold "Gloriola" brooms that were lined up for use by the partygoers. "I'm going to catch a Snitch like old times. That's all. I'm not going airborne to talk to her." Draco muttered to himself as he took to the air.

For a few moments, Draco just enjoyed being in the air, feeling free. The wind whipped his normally neatly styled hair around his face. His robes billowed, making snapping noises as the wind caught and cracked them. He soared higher and higher, and then in a breakneck dive swooped toward the goal posts. He saw the Weaslette and changed course, and almost slammed into another red-head, the twin. "Shit. How many fucking Weasleys _are _there?" he muttered as he drifted away from George.

He swooped around the pitch, looking for a Snitch or Astoria. He saw her near the other goal posts. On a whim, he dove toward the centerline where the Quidditch Ball Boxes were piled, forgotten once the snitches had been released. He could tell the Bludgers were still strapped in-thank Merlin, personal safety was something Draco valued-and, just as he hoped, the bright red Quaffles were also sitting in their boxes forsakenly. Everyone only had eyes for the smaller, winged prize. "_Accio Quaffle!" _ Draco summoned a Quaffle and darted back toward Astoria. He smiled, realizing she was probably not aware that she was hovering near her assigned position.

"Hey, heads up!" Draco lobbed the Quaffle toward the center hoop. Reflexively, Astoria corkscrewed up and head-butted the Quaffle out of scoring range.

Draco slowed his broom, surprised. "That's the signature move of the Appleby Seeker, Dennison Frisby. That's an extremely difficult manoeuver."

"Yeah, I know." Astoria smiled, and kicked her broom into reverse and snatched the Quaffle out of the air. She threw it underhanded to Draco. Conversationally, she told him, "I used to love watching the games at Hogwarts when you played."

"Really?" Draco tossed the Quaffle back to Astoria.

"Oh, yes, I desperately wanted to try out, but I didn't work up the courage until my 7th year. Which was obviously, after you graduated." Astoria kicked her foot out in a sweeping motion and returned the red ball back to Draco.

"You should have, though! With your skills we might've won the cup!" Draco smiled. After all his effort to get close enough to talk to her, he was a little relieved that the conversation with Astoria was flowing so easily.

Astoria brushed a loose strand of dark hair behind her ear. Draco thought it was an absolutely endearing gesture.

"So, uh, why'd you come to our picnic today? I thought you were a Falcon's fan?" Astoria ducked her head, nervously.

"How'd you know I was a Falcon's fan?" Draco looked at her quizzically.

"Uh." Astoria fumbled the Quaffle and avoided looking at Draco. She could feel herself blushing. "Pansy used to talk about you, a lot." It was a lame lie, and Astoria was sure Draco could see right through it.

"She did, did she?" Draco wondered what, exactly, his ex-girlfriend had been saying.

Astoria bit her lip, and then added, "Every girl in Slytherin wanted you to notice her. Pansy always bragged about you. She liked the status it gave her."

This time, Draco fumbled the Quaffle. He dropped a few feet and snatched it out of the air. Silently, mulling over her words, Draco tossed it—this time, aiming for the hoops instead of continuing their easy-going game of catch.

"Surely you knew? You were the house seeker, had the highest grades of the house, a prefect, popular, hot….you were, like, unattainable." Astoria laughed, nervous, and passed the Quaffle back to Draco. She realized, belatedly, that she might as well have just confessed that she was one of those girls that had a terrible school-girl crush on Draco.

"Unattainable?" Draco shook his head and caught the Quaffle. "No one wanted to date me, I was such a snob."

"Well, I'm telling you, us younger girls all hated Pansy's guts because she was dating you." Astoria blushed furiously, and desperately wished that Ginny or another Weasley would zoom over and save her from this increasingly awkward conversation. She was making an incredible fool of herself.

Draco replied, "I try to forget most of my time at Hogwarts. It was a rough time for me-I made a lot of mistakes." He laughed, self-conscious at the memories.

"Really? Why wou—oh, well, it could've have been all bad?" Astoria tucked the Quaffle under her arm and slid closer to Draco.

"The first three or four years were great." He shrugged, not really wanting to discuss his personal choices. He supposed though that his former Death Eater status was bound to come up eventually. "Hey now, are you fouling?" Draco teased. "You're definitely travelling with the Quaffle! Any decent ref would give me a penalty shot!"

Astoria laughed and hugged the Quaffle protectively. "Nope!"

Draco laughed and brought his broom up so that he was close enough to touch Astoria. "Oh, definitely! You've moved out of the scoring end zone! Tell you what, if I score on this penalty shot, you'll let me take you to dinner." Draco reached for the Quaffle.

_Whhhhhhhhhhshhhh! _Draco felt, rather than saw, a blur descend from somewhere above the hoops. He instinctively pulled away from Astoria. He almost fell off his broom when he realized the Weaslette was whispering in Astoria's ear.

_Damn it! _Draco felt like kicking something. Before he could figure out how to re-engage Astoria in conversation, she called his name. "Draco, I've got to help Ginny with something."

Ginny gave Draco a smug look before diving toward the ground. "Bye!" Astoria smiled, and gave Draco a little wave before tailing Ginny to the ground. Frustrated, Draco ran his hands through his hair, and gave a little tug to match the growl that escaped him.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Whoa. Ya'll. Are. Amazing. So many kind words, and I love you for that! To answer** RosesandThorns11**_'_s question...I have absolutely no idea how many chapters I'm going to make this story. My stories have a really terrible way of growing utterly out of control! I mean, I've got a few chapter ideas-Draco trying to get Astoria's attention at a game, Ginny dragging Astoria to the Burrow, Gwenog getting into a fist-fight with George when he tries to take back his miniature Quidditch Pitch...Okay, I'm kidding on the last. Maybe. Now that I think about it, I could totally see Gwenog chasing him across the pitch. ;D I suppose, eventually, I should end the story with Astoria and Draco getting married. Or at least, dating. Or something. I haven't thought that far...*panics!* **BesideMoonlight, **I really can't tell you how awesome your constant feedback is. Hugs and snitches to you! Here's a snitch: ^O^


	9. Secrets

**Author's Note: **I'm so sorry, ya'll! My computer battery died and I just got it back! I've got another chapter written but I'm still proofing/beta'ing it, so it should be up by Wednesday! (and my other stories, too!) Also...I'm a little nervous because I didn't originally intend for this to be a "bonding" story, and it sort of became one...kind of? I promise I'm going somewhere with this that will make sense...Eventually. Hang with me. Also, thank you SO much for your kind reviews and feedback! I feel like I've let ya'll down with my tardiness. *hangs head in shame*

Okay, here goes:

* * *

Gwenog's whistle reverberated around the pitch sharply. "NO! No, no! I said 'Hawkshead Attack!' Do you lot even know what I'm talking about?" She flew up and snatched the Quaffle from Smith.

"To the ground, ladies. Let's go." Gwenog blew her whistle again, and directed Ginny to practice with Astoria with a distraught waving of her hands.

"Wow, she's in a state today." Astoria commented.

Ginny laughed. "Yeah, she gets this way before every game. She's only going to get worse before the game on Monday." The two girls watched as Gwenog arranged her players on the ground.

"Okay, look, Hannah, Anna, you two have got to work with Smith if this is ever going to function correctly. Look, you are flying in a triangle." She pulled Smith to the front, still continuing to scold the girls. "You flank her. Your goal is to look like an intimidating threat. Like an arrowhead, you are going to fly right through anyone in your way."

Gwenog handed Smith the Quaffle. "So the three of you are tossing the Quaffle back and forth and—and what is now, Hannah?" Hannah had her hand raised like she was still in school.

"Can we switch? Do we have to stay always in this position?" Hannah asked cautiously as she lowered her hand.

"Yeah, you can switch around among yourselves in flight, that's fine. But you have to communicate! Damnit! The three of you have GOT to communicate. Lookit, if Smith has the Quaffle, she can toss it to either of you. The point is for the three of you to move in such a way that no one—espeically the Keeper—realizes who has the Quaffle and what's headed their way. Do you see?"

After the three girls nodded seriously, Gwenog made them practice running—on foot—from one end of the pitch to the other. Satisfied that they would be able to function as a team, she sent them airborne and watched as they approached the goals. Finally moving in tandem, they were able to score. Astoria hadn't been able to see who had the Quaffle.

With a sigh, Gwenog returned to the air to coach Astoria through defense of the Hawkshead Attack. Their first game was in a week, and Gwenog was in a full on panic. Unless things started shaping up, they were never going to win.

* * *

Draco strode through the Manor, his robes billowing behind him. He stopped outside the door to his father's study and took a second to ensure his hair was still meticulously in place and his robes were unwrinkled. Draco knocked sharply, and walked into the opulent room.

"Hello, father." Draco seated himself in the leather wing-backed chair.

"Son." Lucius didn't glance up from his ledger, busy working.

"I would like your advice." That statement caught Lucius' attention, and he set down the quill carefully. He folded his hands and regarded Draco across the large mahogany desk.

"Yes?" Lucius drawled.

Draco shifted nervously in his seat, and then scolded himself mentally _to not be cowardly! _With a deep breath, he plunged ahead. "I have given great thought to your instructions that I should marry. What do you think of the younger Greengrass girl?"

Lucius' eyebrows raised slightly, but he gave no other indication that Draco's anouncement caught him off guard. He had given his son an ultimatium—he had until his 21st birthday to be married. They had fought long and hard over his highschool girlfriend, but ultimately Draco had to admit that she was a fling, and not really wife material.

"The Greengrasses come from solid wizard stock. They're in decline now, so it's not a fiscally rewarding union, but they are pure blood. Astoria, I believe?" Lucius nodded his approval. "Your mother and I have discussed her, although we both favor a union with one of the Carrow sisters. Hestia? Flora? Or the young Bulstrude witch. You sure you don't want me to speak to Walburga about her daughter?"

Draco shuddered at the thought of marrying Millicent. "No, father, I'm absolutely sure I will never forgive you if you try to marry me to a Bulstrode."

Lucius laughed softly, knowing his son's vanity would extend to ensuring his wife would look like a trophy on his arm. "Well, if you're sure you don't want to take one of the Carrows, I'm not opposed to a Greengrass."

Draco smiled, sure that he had his father's blessing. They looked like mirror images across the desk. He rose, and was halfway to the door when his father's voice caused him to stop and turn around slowly.

"Would you prefer to discuss the proposal with her parents, or shall I?"

"I wasn't going to court her, father, no one follows that archaic tradition anymore. I intend to speak to her directly. Kind of, you know, date. That's how we do things in this generation." Draco felt a sinking in the pit of his stomach.

Lucius shook his head firmly. "Son, you are an aristocratic wizard of pure blood, you will follow tradition; we've been over that with your little indiscretions with the Parkinson girl. I will arrange to speak with the Greengrass family next"—Lucius quickly glanced at his desk calendar—"Thursday, and if you wish to be present, you may join us. If not, I will begin courting negotiations."

Draco suppressed a sigh. He didn't want to relive the fights he had with his parents over him dating Pansy. "Father, could part of the negotiations include that she not know that you and Mister Greengrass are arranging this until I've told her?"

Lucius, unlike his son, did not suppress his sigh. He pinched the bridge of his nose, and muttered something about his son being stubborn like his mother. "If taking her on a few 'dates' like the goddamn muggles is so important to you, son, I suppose I can get it written into the contract."

"Thank you. I'll be here Thursday. Salazar forbid that you forget I didn't want her knowing." Draco glared at his father and stomped out of his study. After saying his goodbyes to his mother, he apparated back to his flat in Falmouth.

Draco glanced around his apartment with satisfaction. He'd had it furnished in modern, sleek, black-and-white on silver, and everything gleamed and looked expensive and new. When his father first offered him a chance to continue in the family business, he was skeptical. He was repulsed by the idea of anything designed to reign in his freedoms and keep him dependant on his parents. After the Great War he'd had enough of his parents influencing his life. However, Lucius had already drawn up a contract that gave him essentially complete control of the shipping half of the Malfoy business. Lucius told him that he wanted him to have the shipping industry because the majority of the business was centered in Falmouth Harbour and it would require him to move out of the Manor. Draco was completely shocked that his father was basically kicking him out of the house—but immediately jumped at the chance to move out on his own. Perhaps, Draco thought to himself, his father did know him better than he thought.

* * *

Narcissa welcomed her third cousin and her husband into the Manor with a smile. "Hello, Adonia. How are you?"

Adonia Greengrass smiled warmly at Narcissa. "Well, thank you. How about yourself?"

"Wonderful." Narcissa led the Greengrasses into the large library where Draco and Lucius were waiting.

"Cyan, Adonia, it's a pleasure to see you both." Lucius inclined his head and moved to shake Cyan's hand. "Please, make yourselves at home. Be comfortable."

They all sat, the Greengrasses on one couch, and the Malfoys on another. Sitting between his parents, Draco struggled not to betray his anxiousness at this meeting. Narcissa served the tea that the house-elf brought. Adonia exchanged a look with her husband that could have been interpreted in any number of ways—curiosity, frustration, apprehension. Lucius saw it, and jumped in immediately, "I suppose you're wondering why we invited you over? It isn't like our families have been overly close these past years."

"No, Lucy, we haven't spoken since Hogwarts." Cyan acknowledged Lucius, his tone was flat.

Draco choked on his tea, completely flabbergasted that someone would dare call his father 'Lucy.'

Lucius grimaced at the old nickname, but plowed ahead resolutely. "Well, our son is of age. It's high time we found him a wife."

Adonia gripped her husband's knee with no small amount of force. Draco wasn't sure if that was a good thing, or not.

Cyan patted his wife's hand, but otherwise ignored her. "Is Draco amenable to marrying my daughter?"

"Yes, sir, I am." Draco spoke up before his father could answer.

"Cyan, I'm sorry, I feel we need to let them know." Adonia interrupted.

"Adonia, it's neither here, nor there, it is custom! Tradition! She will—"

Adonia spoke over her husband, mainly to Narcissa. "Our daughter has resisted every attempt we've made to find her a suitor. She doesn't want to be married. She's, Cissy, you know how it is at that age!"

Narcissa smiled, "Yes, Adonia, I recall that both you and I were very opposed to the very idea of an arranged marriage being forced upon us when we were younger."

"Bah!" Cyan interrupted both the women and turned his attention to Lucius. "Our daughter is young. Do not hold it against her."

"If I may, sir?" Draco interjected. "I was originally opposed to the idea of an arranged marriage as well." Draco pointedly ignored the glares from his father. "I tried to explain to Father that our generation dates. We get to know each other before marriage is foisted upon us. Perhaps, Astoria doesn't need to know that you and father are arranging a contract. May I have your permission to date her, and we can see where it goes from there?"

Draco held his breath and looked in turn at each of the adults in the room. Adonia looked relieved. Cyan looked confused. Lucius looked furious. After a few seconds Narcissa smiled. "Perhaps my son has found a solution to appease everyone. Draw up the contract, and he can court her—only she doesn't have to know that's what he's doing."

Cyan stroked his mustache. "Adonia?"

"I think that will work. She's most stubborn, our little Astoria." Mrs. Greengrass smiled and added, "She won't even see it coming."


	10. Machinations

I am so embarrassed how long it's taken me to update. I'm sorry. Lots of stuff going on in Real Life and...anyway, thank you for bearing with me.

To answer the question one reviewer posed….If my calculations are correct,  
Draco/Ron/Harry/Hermione/etc began attending Hogwarts in '91.

Ginny/Luna/Colin Creevey were a year behind them, in '92

Astoria was a year behind Ginny in '93.

I think. Please correct me if I'm wrong on that. I put the story three years after the War set in August, so Astoria has graduated and had a few months in the summer off, and Ginny has played professionally for two years. Draco Malfoy's birthday is June 5th, 1980—so he'd have just turned 20. I think—someone want to double-check my math?

Also: HMSM - Her Majesty's Ship, Magic.

I'm a little nervous about this chapter, because I'm trying to bring multiple plotlines together...if it seems awkward, I'm sorry, it'll make sense later. I hope, anyway!

* * *

Draco was sprawled out on his white leather couch, feet dangling over the armrest. One arm was resting across his stomach, and the other he was running through his hair in mild frustration. He was trying to figure out how he could talk to Astoria and not come across like some crazy stalker. He finally decided to Floo Marcus Flint. They hadn't spoken since Flint graduated years ago, and the invitation he'd sent for the Harpy's preseason party had come as a bit of a surprise.

"Yeah?" Marcus' rough voice echoed through Draco's fireplace.

"Fancy coming over for a beer? I have a question for you." Draco breathed a prayer to Merlin and Salazar that Flint wouldn't mind coming over for a bit. They hadn't been overly close at Hogwarts, and certainly hadn't kept it touch since they graduated.

"Yeah, sure, the Manor?" Flint's face withdrew momentarily, and Draco knew he was reaching for Floo Powder.

"No, no, my flat. Number 42 Foulmouth is the address for the Floo."

"Bloody hell, mate, Foulmouth?" Draco laughed at the double take and expression of surprise that Flint had plastered across his face.

"I'll explain when you get here." Draco withdrew from his fireplace and ended the connection. The fire flashed green and a second later Marcus stepped through, looking around the Flat with unconcealed curiosity.

Draco handed him a butterbeer and got right to the point. "So, I need your advice."

Flint took a long swig and walked out of the living room and down the hall, sticking his head into the various rooms. "Yeah? Go ahead. What the hell are you doing in a muggle place anyway?"

Draco followed after the larger man, trying to keep Marcus' attention. "This isn't a muggle place. Foulmouth is a wizarding community-you know that. Father put me in charge of the shipping part of the Malfoy business—hey, hey, that's my room." Draco pulled the door shut and herded Marcus back to the living room.

"Will you just listen a second?" Draco's patience was nearly exhausted.

Marcus settled into the couch and kicked his feet up on the coffee table. Draco reigned in his temper, glaring at the thought of his ridiculous boots scuffing the wood. "You called me here because you want to know about my sister-in-law." Marcus finished his beer and looked at Draco smugly.

"You know, nevermind. If you're going to be a smartass about it, I don't need your help." Draco set his butterbeer, untasted, down on the coffee table, regretting ever calling his old Quidditch captain.

"Well, I can't really help you. At Hogwarts I had nearly graduated before she started, so I don't know who her friends were. The Carrow twins, I guess." Marcus shrugged.

"Well, does she still hang out with them? What does she like doing? C'mon, man, give me something here."

"I really can't help you, mate. She barely says anything whenever there's a family dinner." Marcus clasped his hands behind his head and leaned into the couch, staring at the ceiling. He continued, thoughtfully, "All she does is go to Quidditch, occasionally hang out with the Weasley little sister—the fine redhead, what's her name?-and hide in her room. So I don't know what she likes, or how you could even go about talking to her."

Draco, mollified that Marcus was actually making an effort to help, asked, "What about your wife? Couldn't you have us over for dinner at the same time, or something?" Draco was almost embarrassed how desperate he sounded.

"Nah." Marcus shook his head. "Astoria really doesn't get along with her sister. Maybe you could give up cheering for your beloved Falcons and start rooting for the Harpies." Marcus smirked at Draco.

"That's a terrible idea." Draco rolled his eyes. "When did you become a Harpy fan anyway?"

Marcus scoffed, "I'm not a Harpy fan."

"Then why did you invite the entire Slytherin Quidditch team to their party?" Draco shot Marcus a pointed look.

"Because Mr. Greengrass is trying to find an eligible suitor for Astoria. He asked me to invite all the guys I knew." Marcus had the good sense to look embarrassed.

"That whole party was a match-making effort?" Draco asked incredulously.

"Well, it worked, didn't it?" Marcus grinned. "Or did you even find the courage to talk to her?"

"I don't need find courage to talk to anyone." Draco grabbed his beer and drank some in a huff when Marcus started laughing.

Marcus choked out amidst his laughter, "Then, mate, why'd you call me over to help you figure out how to talk to her?"

Still chuckling, Marcus stood up and clapped Draco's shoulder. "I gotta get going, Daphne doesn't like it when I'm late for dinner."

Draco followed Marcus to the Floo. "Thanks. If you think of something, let me know?"

"Yeah. Good luck." Marcus grinned, amused at Draco, and disappeared through the Floo.

Draco trudged into his kitchen, preoccupied with thoughts of Astoria. He leaned against the marbled countertop, and mulled over the best way to approach Astoria. He briefly considered apparating directly to the Greengrass mansion, but, based off the conversations he had with Mr. and Mrs. Greengrass and Marcus, he was fairly certain that Astoria wouldn't even give him a chance if she realized he was trying to court her. Draco had absolutely no qualms about being direct when he wanted something, but he'd learned that the Slytherin approach was often more successful. Sneaky, suave, manipulative—whatever term you used, Draco knew that getting Astoria to recognize he existed—and then fall in love with him—was going to require planning and finesse. And an incredible amount of subtlety.

After a few more minutes of deliberation, Draco finally decided to consult "that fine redhead," even though he didn't expect much help from a Weasley. He _accio_'ed a quill and parchment and carefully penned,

Miss Weasley,

The pleasure of your company is requested at Number 42 Foulmouth Flat at your earliest convenience.

Respectfully,

Draco Malfoy

He tied the parchment to his owl's leg, and told him sternly, "Don't let Potter get it, only Ginny Weasley. Got it?"

After the bird took off, he decided to take a walk along the docks to clear his mind. His father had been absolutely clear that he'd be cut off from the family fortune and his entire inheritance if he did not marry a pureblood witch before his 21st birthday. He had a little less than a year left. "Damn the old man and his pureblood mania." Draco thought to himself. It wasn't until a half-hour later, while he was reviewing the shipping logs with the supply officer and captain of the shipping vessel HMSM Compass that he received a reply.

While the captain waited politely for him to return his attention to the inventoried descriptions, Draco opened the letter and read,

"What, exactly, do you want?"

"Damn." Draco muttered. The captain courteously slid a blank parchment toward Draco, and stroked his beard while continuing his conversation with the supply officer. "Thank you." Draco took the parchment and thought through his response.

He wrote, deliberately,

"Miss Weasley,

You are a subject matter expert, and I am in dire need of your opinion and advice. If you do not wish to meet at my flat, I am amenable to a location of your choosing.

No tricks. I really am just asking for your help.

Respectfully,

Draco Malfoy"

He gave the bird the same instructions, and watched as it took off through the window.

Draco finished reviewing the past month's ledger and walked along the docks back to his office. He strode past the small office pool and into the foyer outside of his office. He told the secretary, an elderly Hufflepuff woman, to schedule an appointment with the captain of the HMSM Adventure when it returned to port. Draco also ordered his secretary to schedule a meeting with the heads of the manufacturing companies to discuss a shipping venture expansion to the Americas. "And," he added, "can you get me season tickets to the Holyhead Harpies game?"

"Of course, Master Malfoy. I'll have them on your desk tomorrow, unless you'd like them delivered to your home. I'm assuming you want the executive box reserved?" His secretary looked at him over her horn-rimmed glasses.

"That will be perfect, Louisa, thank you." Draco nodded, and then apparated back to his flat. The cool sea air wasn't doing much to distract him from his Astoria conundrum. Draco walked through the front door and kicked off his shoes and loosened his tie. He wandered into the kitchen and was about to pour himself a drink when voice called out from his living room.

"Draco?"

He dropped his glass in shock and immediately brandished his wand.

_Repairo. _The voice belonged to Ginny Weasley, and she repaired the glass shards as she walked into the kitchen. She leaned down to pick up newly unshattered glass and handed it to Draco, who was slowly lowering his wand.

"How the fuck did you get into my apartment?" Draco took the glass and, using _aguamenti _he filled it up and took a sip. He glared at her over the edge of the glass.

"I flooed. You left it unlocked." She shrugged, and regarded Draco warily. "You asked me here, remember?"

"Yeah, I just—" Draco took a deep breath to settle himself. He had thought momentarily that one of the right-wing Death Eater haters had broken into his house. He'd been threatened enough immediately following the war and the trials. Life was just finally starting to settle for him. Draco finally spoke again, a little stiffly, "Would you care for a drink?"

"No, thank you."

Draco walked over to the table and leaned against it. "I was expecting an owl. Thank you for coming."

"Could you hurry it up, Malfoy, I'm meeting a friend for dinner." Ginny's tone was completely neutral. Draco wasn't sure if she was hiding disgust—a frequent tone employed when people found out he was a Death Eater—or anger, he couldn't get a read on her at all.

"Yes. I'll be quick. Please, sit down?" He pulled a chair out for her, and asked, "Who are you meeting?"

"A quidditch teammate." She slid into the seat, gracefully, and folded her hands. She was giving him exactly ten minutes, and then she was going to leave.

Draco sat down across from her and fiddled with his glass. He finally spoke, "I know that your parents are…" he spoke the word delicately, "…Blood Traitors, no offense, and so you probably don't understand the pressures I'm under from my parents."

"Like what?" Ginny crossed her arms as her mind raced furiously, trying to figure out where Draco was leading with this discussion.

Draco sighed. "My father has given me until my 21st birthday to be married to a pureblood witch. If not, he will arrange the marriage for me. And, I don't know if your brothers incorporated that damn binding oath, the unbreakable vows, into their weddings, but that is custom among…" Draco floundered for the right word again, and finally settled on, "…proper, upstanding pure-blood families."

Ginny raised her eyebrows. "Yeah, the unbreakable vow is pretty standard at wizard weddings, even blood traitors." She said the last with a smile.

"Then you understand why I'm hesitant to commit myself with an unbreakable vow in an arranged marriage." Draco's tone was flat

"So, let me get this straight." She tucked a strand of red hair behind her ear. "You have less than a year to find a witch and marry her or your father will force you to marry a girl he picks, and if you cheat, or attempt a divorce, it will result in your death."

"A little crassly put, but yes." Draco drummed his long, slender fingers on the table.

Ginny tried not to laugh, but a small giggle escaped her. "I'm sorry for laughing, Draco, but, seriously?"

"Yes." Draco pursed his lips.

Biting her lip to keep her smile under control, Ginny asked, "Well, so, what the hell do you need me for?"

Draco spoke softly, and avoided eye contact with Ginny. "I would like your advice on how to approach one of your quidditch teammates."


End file.
